


The Last Sha

by samsarapine



Series: The Last Sha [1]
Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Blanket Permission, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-03
Updated: 2010-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-08 16:16:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samsarapine/pseuds/samsarapine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sha Jien's father left him a legacy, and now Jien is bound by it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Sha

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nanfoodle](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Nanfoodle).



> **Disclaimer:** Sha Jien, Kougaiji and all associated characters from the Saiyuki universe are the property of Minekura Kazuya and those to whom she has licensed her creations. No copyright infringement is intended. The author is making no profit from this story.   
> **Author's notes:** A gift, written for the occasion of Nanfoodle's birthday with much love. Thank you so very, very much – you make my stories much better. *hugs* Love and thanks also go to my lovely betas, Kispexi2, Caeseria, and Rroselavy, for all of their amazing advice, corrections and support. I've played with the story since they last saw it, so any remaining mistakes are mine.

****

The Last Sha

 

Cicada song rose and fell in lazy scrapes, and heat mirages shimmered on the horizon.

"Damn it!" Sha Jien wiped his arm across his face. The balance of the damned sword was off, as if the bloody thing were larger and broader than it actually was.

"Patience."

"It's impossible!" Jien said. "I've been training for ten years, and it's not any better. It's like the sword's got a mind of its own."

"It has." Old Tan leaned against the trunk of the jujube tree, smoking a cigarette. He looked annoyingly calm and cool, with the shadows of the leaves and branches dancing in patterns across his face.

Jien glared at the sword. "You'd never know it to look at it. A demon sword. It looks more like a novice's practice sword or something."

"It's bound."

_Not for long_, Jien vowed silently. "I'll break your seal if it's the last thing I do," he muttered at it. "Do you hear me?"

Old Tan raised an eyebrow. "I doubt that it's very intimidated," he said dryly. "Now show me your _renzoku waza_ again – smoothly, this time," he added as Jien impatiently brought the sword to bear. "Like a trout rising to the fly."

"More like a drunk taking a piss, with this thing." Jien took a deep breath and relaxed, his body falling into the beginning stance. Sometimes the sword nearly hummed in his hands, but today it was cold and silent, almost as if it were ignoring him. He tried to empty his mind, to let his chi flow through him and into the weapon, but the sword remained closed to him. Grimly, Jien started the exercise again.

"Stop." Old Tan dropped his cigarette to the ground and crushed it, shaking his head.

"I know," Jien said quickly. "Let me try again—"

"You can try until the world stands still, but it won't be any different." Old Tan sighed. "Jien. With a proper sword, you'd be a swordsman. But as long as you tie your fate to _that_," he pointed with his chin at Jien's sword, "you'll only become your father."

"Father was one of the best," Jien retorted, his cheeks flushing.

"Of course he was. I taught him. You're better, even at eighteen." He shook his head again. "Your skills aren't the problem. That sword is. I've watched your family struggle to master it, generation after generation. I can tell you now, you won't be the one to do it."

"What?" Stunned, Jien relaxed his grip on the sword; the tip bit into the ground at his feet. "Master. I'll practice harder, I swear—"

"Aren't you listening to me? _Practice won't help._ It's a demon sword. The only way to awaken it is to do a cursed deed." Old Tan came forward and put his hand on Jien's shoulder. "You're a decent boy," he said, his voice oddly gentle. "Treasure that. Destroy that sword and buy a new one. You have the potential to be an exceptional swordsman. Don't waste it on a blade that will only cause evil."

"You're wrong." Jien shrugged away from Old Tan's hand and faced him, anger burning through him. "Sha Jostra mastered it, and everyone knows that he was a great man."

"Sha Jostra spent his life atoning for the deed that woke the blade. It took his death to seal the sword again."

"You don't know that!"

"My family has been training your family for more than seven hundred years," Old Tan chided. "We have our family histories, too. Your father died before he told you the truth about the curse, which is why I'm telling you. He was too weak to destroy the sword. Don't live your life like that, too."

"You're wrong," Jien repeated stubbornly. "Mastering this sword was my dad's dream, and now it's mine. I can do it."

Old Tan contemplated him, his face exasperated. "You Shas are just too damned thick-headed."

"Is it thick-headed to want to be the best?" Jien snapped.

"The best what? Murderer? Mercenary? Assassin? Think about your future, boy!"

"I am! You're the one who doesn't understand. The sword doesn't have to be used for evil," Jien insisted.

"I believe that you believe that," Tan said heavily. "But what is a belief? It's what a person calls a fantasy that he doesn't want to let go. That sword is possessed. Only evil can awaken it. You're a fool if you believe differently."

Jien tried to push down his anger. Working with Old Tan wasn't going to get him closer to waking the sword, that much was obvious. Though he respected his master, they'd had this argument too many times before. "Thanks for all the training. I've learned a lot from you. But I won't be coming back." He sheathed his weapon.

Tan was silent for a moment. "I understand." He closed his eyes.

Jien realized that Old Tan wasn't going to argue anymore. Time stilled, as if a mask had been removed and he was suddenly seeing Tan clearly, but a moment too late. Where was the strong master swordsman that he'd known all of his life? It couldn't be this frail man, his voice ragged from decades of cigarette smoke, and his hands gnarled and dappled with age spots.

Old Tan had never been old, would never grow old.

"Good luck, boy." Old Tan blinked rheumy eyes and walked away, his steps the shuffling amble of the aged.

Jien stared after him, shaken.

~~~***~~~

He checked one last time to make sure the sword was well hidden. Jien shuddered to think what might happen to Gojyo if their mum ever found it. But only he and Gojyo came out here to the shed and while Gojyo knew about the sword, Jien was sure that his younger brother would never say anything about it to her.

Shutting the shed door behind him, Jien felt uneasy. The house was quiet, and he was never sure if that was a good sign or a bad sign. He hurried across the small yard, past Gojyo's pathetic little garden patch, dreading what he might find this time.

The door pushed open at a touch. Jien shivered again. "I'm home."

"In here, Jien."

He followed his mum's voice into the kitchen, his heart pounding, but his mother looked almost normal, standing over the cutting board with a kitchen knife and a pile of vegetables in front of her. She looked up and smiled, and it broke his heart, like it did every time she looked like the mother he'd once known.

"Where's Gojyo?" he asked, gently taking the knife from her and wondering how she'd found it. He checked the board, which was covered in red pulp, and felt sick. _A tomato. That's all. It's just a tomato._

"Dinner's nearly ready," she said brightly.

Jien looked at the cold oven and dust-covered stove, and pasted a smile on his face. "Smells good," he lied.

She frowned. "Aren't you going to kiss me hello?"

"Yeah." Fighting his apprehension, he leaned over to press his lips against her cheek. She threw her arms around his neck and redirected him to her mouth, her tongue sweet and hot and wicked. Jien moaned and felt her lips curve into a smile.

"You're so sexy," she whispered. She took his hand and guided it under her skirt. "Feel me. I'm already wet."

Jien shivered and closed his eyes. Wrong, wrong, it was all so wrong, but she smelled good, and her hands felt great on his body, and her mouth tasted like warm honey. He slid his fingers in deep. Yeah, she was wet. His cock stirred and he felt like crying.

She pressed against him and his hand slipped up to cradle her breast; he felt the weight of it, as heavy as his guilt, the hard nipple brushing his palm while his cock filled in response.

"You're so strong," she murmured. "I bet we could do it standing up."

Fuck. "Not here. Let's go to the bedroom."

"No. Here." Her trilling laugh had an edge to it.

"Is Gojyo around?" Jien tried to keep the desperation out of his voice.

His mum slapped him hard and immediately started crying. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to slap you—"

"It's okay," he interrupted. "I just wanted to know if—"

"Fuck me?" Her tears disappeared, leaving her cheeks wet. She smiled and rocked on his fingers as they slid in and out. "Standing? Please?"

"Shit. Okay." Jien pushed down her panties and lifted her; the wisp of lace slipped over her pretty, bare feet and fell to the floor. She wrapped both of her legs around his waist and clung to his neck as he pulled his cock out of his trousers and positioned himself against her opening.

"I love your cock, baby." Her voice was soft and breathy, and she moaned as he pressed inside.

Jien tried to fuck her hard and fast, eager to make her come as quickly as possible. He hated it when she refused to go to the bedroom. He rubbed her clit mercilessly.

"Oh, God, Jien, you're so good," she crooned. Her pussy muscles clenched at his cock. "Fuck me, baby. C'mon. Fuck me."

Jien shuddered and hated himself for the perverted bastard he was even as he laid her on the counter so that he could pound into her harder.

"Yes, God, yes, baby, Jien, baby, I'm gonna come--!" She abruptly arched against him, her fingernails biting deep into his back. "Oh God, I'm coming! I'm coming!"

Jien plunged into her one last time and froze, emptying himself deep inside her clutching heat, panting so hard that he felt light-headed. He slumped over her, braced against the counter, and tried to calm the pounding of his heart. Sweat trickled down his neck and his shirt clung unpleasantly. He needed to get her to the bedroom. She'd sleep now, for a bit anyway, and he could find Gojyo and make sure he was okay.

When he started to pull out of her, she grabbed his ass. "No, baby," she murmured sleepily. "Stay inside. I want to sleep with you inside me."

"Fuck," Jien whispered. "Yeah. Okay." He lifted her and carefully slid down the front of the cupboard until they were on the floor. She fell asleep with the simplicity of a child, a small half-smile on her lips, cradled against him.

His limp cock slid out and he could feel his come dripping from her opening. He swallowed hard, fighting not to get sick.

"Hey," a soft voice said.

Jien looked up to see Gojyo standing in the doorway. His red hair fell forward around his face, not tied up like usual, but Jien could still see his expression, the old-beyond-his-years knowledge in his little brother's eyes.

_He shouldn't have to see this._ "Hey, yourself."

"Should I call out for dinner?" Gojyo whispered.

"Maybe you'd better." Jien looked down at his mum's sleeping face. She really was beautiful. One of the most beautiful women he'd ever known. When he looked up, Gojyo was gone, but he could hear him dialing the phone in the living room. Jien closed his eyes and cursed.

Gojyo's little trick with the hair hadn't worked. Jien had seen it anyway: Gojyo's right eye was swollen almost closed.

The fucking irony of it. Both of them trying to cover for her madness, each wanting to hide his pain from the other.

"Hi," he heard his little brother say. "Yeah, I'd like to order some noodles…"

~~~***~~~

Jien woke early, his dreams fading, but a memory of blood and shining steel lingered behind. He threw his arm over his eyes and groaned.

Fuck. Why had he quit his training? Was pride worth more than learning to be a swordsman, and maybe getting a better job once Gojyo was old enough to be on his own? There was good money in security these days, and he'd heard that humans preferred to hire youkai for the more dangerous, higher paying jobs. He rubbed his face, cursing his stupidity, and got up.

He showered and shaved, squinting in the bright sunlight that flooded the bathroom, promising yet another hot day. As he rinsed his razor and hid the blade again, he tried to figure out what the hell he was going to do with all of the free time he'd have, now that he wasn't going to be at Old Tan's every day. Though he was pretty sure his boss would give him more hours at the mill, he wondered if maybe he should hang around the house more, do some odd jobs that needed doing. It might keep things from getting out of hand between his mum and Gojyo if he were around. He could give Gojyo easy tasks, spend some time with the brat. Maybe today they could do something outside before it got too hot.

An hour later, he grinned at the intense frown Gojyo gave to the windowsill, clearly dripping with too much paint. The kid was growing like a weed, all long legs and awkward motions.

"Even strokes. See?" Jien smoothed paint on his window's trim. "And I told you, not so much paint on the brush."

Gojyo turned his frown on Jien. "I know. The stupid paint is too drippy, that's all."

"Paint is supposed to be drippy, you little idiot." Jien ruffled Gojyo's hair, eliciting a disgusted noise from Gojyo. "Not the painter."

"I'm not drippy!" Gojyo hotly defended himself, pushing Jien's hand away.

"You're drippier than a drippy faucet."

"_You're_ drippier than-- than baby diapers!"

"You should know, little bro."

"I don't wear diapers, jerk!"

"Oh? When did you stop?"

Gojyo dropped his paintbrush into the grass and launched himself at Jien, and a second later they were on the ground, wrestling and laughing and punching each other.

"Jien?"

Jien loosened the headlock he had on Gojyo and turned. "You need me?"

She stood at the corner of the house, her hand against the siding and her bottom lip trembling.

"Don't cry, Mum."

Jien glanced down at Gojyo's whispered words. His little brother was staring at their mother, guilt clear on his face. _Damn._ He'd have to talk to the kid, make Gojyo understand that he wasn't responsible for Mum's problems. Giving his brother's head a rough rub and hoping Gojyo understood that he wasn't abandoning him on purpose, he made his voice cheerful as he rose to his feet. "Right. I'm coming."

He walked her into the house. As soon as he shut the door, she started pounding her fists on his chest. "You're supposed to love _me_!" she screamed.

"It's okay." Jien wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight and trapping her arms to subdue her. "I do love you. It's fine." He awkwardly patted her hair as her sobs slowly died away.

"Don't love him," she said into his chest. "I mean it, Jien. Don't love him."

"Shh. It's okay. I'm here."

"Promise me you won't love him."

Jien licked dry lips. "I can't do that."

"Promise me!"

"I can't."

She pulled back, her claws digging deep into his arms, glaring up at him. "Promise me!"

"Shh, shh, it'll be all right. C'mon." He desperately pulled her towards the bedroom, closing the door behind them as he glimpsed Gojyo coming into the house, knowing that Gojyo knew what they were doing, but trying to at least spare him the sight this time.

After he'd fucked her into unconsciousness, he sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

How long could he keep this up? She was insane. He knew it, fuck, everybody probably knew it, nobody would fault him for finding her a place in some facility somewhere. He couldn't afford it with what he was making now, but maybe if he could get a good security job, a live-in one that let him keep Gojyo with him, maybe they could do it then. If not, they might have to find some sort of charity home for her, but as long as she had a place to sleep and decent food to eat, and maybe some medications or something, she'd be okay. And he and Gojyo could visit, sometimes, take her flowers or candy or…

Fuck. He rubbed his eyes and reached for his jeans.

He found Gojyo washing the paintbrushes in the kitchen sink.

"Hey," Jien said.

Gojyo raised a thin shoulder in reply.

"Why don't you leave that? We need to talk."

Blood-red eyes met his for a moment and then slid away. Gojyo stretched on tiptoe for the faucet handle – _he doesn't need a chair anymore, god, he's growing_ – turned off the water, and followed him outside.

They walked for a long time, saying nothing. The sun was high enough in the sky that Jien felt his shirt getting damp, and he wished for a stray breeze. The air tasted as hot and brittle as the grass growing beside the road.

"Where are we going?" Gojyo finally asked.

"Where do you want to go?"

"Maybe the stream?"

Jien nodded. They veered from the road and walked across overgrown pastures until they reached the stream. The tall grasses grew thick and lush near the water, muffling the sounds of their footsteps and whispering to them as they passed. They pulled their shoes off and sat on the bank, dangling their feet in the cool water.

"She's never going to like me, is she?"

Jien glanced over, but Gojyo was staring across the stream.

"It's not your fault, you know."

Gojyo turned to look at him then, impatiently, as if Jien were a child. "Don't lie to me," he said. "I know it's because I'm not hers." He turned away again, grabbing a rock and throwing it. Water splashed, all traces of the momentary disturbance immediately washed away by the current. For some reason, the sight made Jien shiver.

"She's sick." Jien tried to clear the lump in his throat. "I think maybe we need to take her someplace where they can help her."

"You mean a place where they keep crazy people."

"No," Jien said, shaking his head. "I mean a place where she can get the help she needs. We can't do this anymore, Gojyo."

"Fine. Then go away. I'll take care of her." Gojyo glared at the water.

"You can't. Not on your own. Look, I've been thinking. What if we find her a nice place, get her settled, then I'll find a better job and the two of us can find a new home to live in? We can still go to visit her—"

"No!"

"But we're not helping her the way she needs to be helped. What if she hurts herself some day? What if she hurts _you_?" Again. Worse.

"We can do it," Gojyo insisted. "Just stop talking about it, okay? I'll work harder."

"Gojyo—"

Gojyo abruptly stood up. "Just shut up!" he yelled. He turned and ran back towards the house.

Jien sighed and picked up their shoes before slowly following.

~~~***~~~

The sword felt heavy and dead in his hands.

"Damn it," Jien muttered. Old Tan was right. He should get rid of the damned thing and buy one he could really use, especially if he wanted to get a job. There was just no fucking way he could carry out a job with this sword, family heirloom or not.

Maybe if he got a new sword, Old Tan might take him back, just until he got the balance right-- He heard a muffled scream from the house.

His heart skipped a beat. There was a note to his mum's scream that chilled his blood.

"Gojyo," he whispered, and bolted from the shed.

He burst through the kitchen door. There was a crash from beyond the closed dining room door.

They never closed that door.

"Jien is mine, not yours! Mine! You can't have him!"

Gojyo cried out in pain and Jien tried to yank the door open, but it wouldn't budge. "Fuck!" She'd locked it, the crafty bitch. He drove his shoulder into it. Gojyo cried out again, and Jien heard his mother say, "You should never have been born! I won't let you have him!"

Jien threw himself against the door again, putting all his weight into it. It shuddered on its hinges and suddenly gave. He stumbled through.

His mum had found the axe; he'd hidden it in the cellar, he knew he had. She hated the cellar but she'd obviously gone down there and found it. Gojyo was pressed against the dining room wall, his eyes closed, looking scared but disturbingly resigned, with gouges in his cheek that were dripping blood. _You shouldn't look like that!_ Jien screamed in his head.

"Don't cry, Mum," Gojyo whispered.

"Oh fuck!" Jien lunged as the axe began to swing.

Her body offered little resistance to the sword in his hand. It felt strangely like he was slicing into sand, or maybe butter, a smooth stroke that slid between her shoulder blade and her backbone and dragged his hand forward until the guard was pressed against her warm back, her blood spilling like tears over his hand. She gasped, a quiet sound, and her knees buckled. She slid off the sword as easily as it had slid in, slumping into a heap of bloodied, lifeless flesh at Jien's feet.

He hadn't even realized that he'd brought the sword with him. Jien stared down at her body, numb with horror.

"Jien?"

He looked up and met Gojyo's wide, frightened gaze.

The sword pulsed in his hand.

A hunger swept over Jien and his vision turned red. Dimly, he could see Gojyo staring back at him, but the red blended with the red of Gojyo's taboo hair and eyes, until only empty sockets stared out at him from a skull hovering in the air.

_Kill him._

The hunger intensified. Jien looked down and saw his mother's blood pooled around his bare feet. It was warm and full of madness, but it wasn't enough. He needed more.

"Jien?"

The skull was talking to him.

_Kill him._

Yes. He was hungry.

He raised the sword and took a step towards the skull. His feet squelched and he was distracted, his gaze dropping to the perfect footprints he was making with his mother's blood, as neat as his brushstrokes earlier in the morning while he'd painted the trim—

_Kill him,_ the sword hummed.

"Jien? What's wrong?"

Something wasn't right. Jien paused and examined the skull, pushing back the hunger when it threatened to overwhelm him again. Something about the skull worried him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Jien?"

Gojyo's voice.

Gojyo.

_Kill him._

The vision of the skull disappeared and Jien saw Gojyo, still pressed against the wall, but now as if he were trying to escape. He looked terrified.

_Kill him!_

"Jien? Are you okay?" Gojyo's voice was shaking.

_KILL HIM!_

"NO!"

He turned away from Gojyo's fear-filled eyes and ran out of the house, stumbling before he found his stride but then running as hard as he could.

When he couldn't breathe for the stitch in his side, he fell to his knees beside the road. Warm drops fell on his shaking hands; he brushed his eyes. When had he started crying? Oh, fucking hell, fuck, he was going to jail, but he deserved it, didn't he? Oh, fuck.

Mum. He'd killed their mum. He'd killed her in front of Gojyo. And nearly killed Gojyo, too.

The sword was still in his hand, both hand and blade red with her blood. He looked down at it.

A great eye opened and looked back at him.

~~~***~~~

Jien got as far as Chang'An late the second afternoon, but he wasn't sure if he could go much further. He hadn't eaten or slept since the morning he'd— Jien stopped remembering and tried to focus on what to do next.

He needed food. Someplace to rest. He'd heard there was a temple in Chang'An, maybe they would be willing to spare some food. Or at least let him stay there long enough to wait for the authorities.

The sword hummed at his side, hungry and impatient. He shivered, loathing its touch.

He'd tried to kill himself. He'd written a note and tucked it into his pocket; later, he'd burned it when he realized that the sword's magic was too strong. It bound him motionless every time he'd tried to raise the blade to his throat. It had also kept him from leaping off the edge of a cliff or throwing himself into the river. When he'd tried to throw the sword into the water instead, his hand had refused to let it go.

_You belong to me._

"Fuck you," Jien said, his voice shaking. "Goddamn sonofabitch."

The blade rattled with laughter.

"Hey, kid."

A man stepped out of the shadows of a nearby building. Jien eyed him warily. A youkai, pretty rough-looking. "What?"

"Nice sword, there." The man licked his lips, looking crafty. "Is it for sale?"

Jien's heart leapt. Could this be the way—? "Depends," he said cautiously.

"I'll give you fifty yuan for it." The man licked his lips again.

Fifty yuan. Not anywhere near what the sword was actually worth, of course, but more than he'd expected the man to offer. Which was suspicious. "Let me see the money first."

The man narrowed his eyes. "Follow me."

On edge and watching for ambushes, Jien followed him to a dingy apartment building, some windows already glowing gently in the dusk. He waited uneasily outside while the man disappeared within. He emerged moments later.

"Here." He held out a wad of greasy bills.

As if in a dream, Jien took the money and handed over the sword. The man vanished.

Jien counted the money in a daze. It was all there, fifty yuan. He couldn't believe it. Just like that, the sword was gone. Gone. Relief swept over him, far outweighing the guilt he felt about selling the sword to someone who was probably a criminal. He'd go back, confess to his mum's murder, tell the police what he'd done with the sword and leave it as their problem to deal with. At least he'd be able to make sure that Gojyo was okay, maybe get Old Tan or somebody to take him in, and give the person the fifty yuan as a payment towards Gojyo's care. He might even be able to get a solicitor, someone who could tell the court that he'd had only been trying to protect Gojyo, that killing their mum had been an accident. And if not – well, sitting in jail for the rest of his life or being executed as a murderer was preferable to life with that damned sword.

Dizzy with hope, he started walking back home.

Shortly after evening had given way to full darkness, he heard water and followed the sound to a small stream he vaguely remembered seeing as he'd stumbled past earlier. He knelt beside it, scooping water to drink. It didn't taste polluted, so he continued to drink until his thirst was quenched and then splashed water on his face and neck. Rubbing his hands on his jeans to dry them, he'd just stood when he heard voices. Cautiously, he crept back up to the road to investigate.

"I said, give it to me, Chan!" a voice said not far from him. In the starlight, Jien could faintly make out the forms of several youkai. They appeared to be arguing.

"I told you, it's mine. I fucking bought it!"

"With the drug money you collected for us," another voice sneered. "Give it over, and maybe we'll only chop off a hand."

"No!"

Jien crouched in the bushes at the side of the road as a fight broke out. There was a cry, and a gurgling sound, and then another, then someone started screaming and he heard the sound of running footsteps. With a start, Jien realized that the person was running towards him, so he ducked lower.

A youkai ran past him down the road, still screaming, with another youkai right behind him, armed raised over his head. There was a glint of metal as the arm came down, a thick, wet _chunk_ that made Jien's stomach turn, and the first youkai fell, his screams abruptly stopped.

The second youkai stood, panting. "What the fuck are you?" he whispered. Jien froze, hoping that he hadn't been seen. But the youkai made no move towards him, just repeated, his voice growing shrill, "What the fuck are you?" A heartbeat later, he began screaming.

Jien sprang up, intending to run, but something held him still. In horror, he watched as the youkai lifted his arm, and, still screaming, plunged the thing he held into his chest. He fell with a heavy, meaty sound, and then there was silence.

Heart pounding wildly, Jien cautiously made his way towards them. Fuck. He didn't want to get his throat slit, but at the same time, he couldn't just leave them if they might need help.

As soon as he saw them, he knew they were dead. The first youkai's head was lying on the ground next to his body, and the second youkai's eyes stared into the night sky, his chest unmoving and laid open, the jutting ends of severed ribs glistening.

It was the youkai who had bought the sword. Jien fell to his knees when he saw what nestled upright in the youkai's heart.

_I told you. You're mine._

"No," Jien whispered.

The sword's great eye blinked, crinkling at the edges as if it smiled. _If you leave me, I shall follow._

As if from a great distance, Jien could feel his heart beating; he must be alive, then. This wasn't Hell.

"Gojyo," he whispered.

Then he vomited copiously.

~~~***~~~

"I've paid you, Toki. Now talk, damn it!"

"I tell you, there isn't anything!" Toki glared at Jien. "I went back to your fucking village and talked to practically every fucking bastard that lives there. Your brother disappeared at the same time you did, and nobody's seen either of you for the past three years."

Jien's heart sank. It was the same information that everyone else had brought him, but he'd really hoped this time he'd learn something, anything, because Toki was better at digging out information than anyone he'd ever known. His natural charm won trust everywhere, which was invaluable to their boss, Shoichi, and devastating for the people his gang targeted. If Toki couldn't find out anything about Gojyo, it was because there was nothing to find.

"Hey, man." Toki put down his beer mug. "The past is the past. We've all got 'em."

Jien looked away, pretending to study the pallanguli game at the table next to theirs, coins and seeds pattering in and out of the cups. "Thanks," he said quietly. "Sorry to have wasted your time, having to go back to China and all."

"No sweat. Shoichi needed me to do some courier work." Toki looked at his empty mug with a critical eye. "Chinese beer is better. This India stuff is too damned bitter." Toki motioned to the bartender, who brought over two new beers. Toki raised his. "To leaving the fucking past behind us!"

Jien managed to smile and nod. "Cheers," he said, sipping while Toki downed half of his mug. The beer was sour in his mouth.

"Hey, big guy," Toki stifled a belch and leaned closer. "Y'hear about the new mark?"

"Something about an important youkai. That's all I know." Damn, Jien hated Shoichi's jobs. But after the sword had slaughtered a youkai farm family that had taken him in, he'd realized that even hiding the sword while he worked wasn't enough. He'd tried security, but merchants refused to hire a youkai kid with a sword that was obviously possessed, and he'd avoided the military, worried both about being caught and about the damage the sword would do if he ever had to use it. He'd been nearly dead from exposure and hunger when Shoichi had found him, and Jien paid his debts.

"Damned right, the mark's big." Toki looked around and leaned closer. "Gyumaoh's brat."

"What?' That didn't make sense. "Gyumaoh? The one that's been dead for the last five hundred years?"

"Not dead. Sealed. His family, too. I heard that somebody broke the seal on the brat and a couple of others just a few months ago."

"Huh." Jien briefly wondered what it would be like to wake in five hundred years' time, knowing that Gojyo would have long since died and turned to dust. He shivered. "That's… creepy."

"You're tellin' me! You youkai have got some weird-ass lives." Toki drained the rest of his beer. "Drink up, pal. We gotta head out. Shoichi is callin' everybody in for this one."

Jien nodded and followed Toki out of the bar, leaving behind his barely-touched beer.

As they walked, Jien listened to Toki's chatter – sometimes he wondered just what Shoichi had on him, because Toki seemed too damned talkative to be safe working for a gang like theirs – and tried to think of a new way to overcome the dead end that he'd hit in his efforts to find Gojyo. But his alternatives seemed to have run dry. Over the past three years he'd checked on all of the people Gojyo might have gone to for help – there weren't many – and there were no records of his being put in any kind of foster care. It was as if he had simply vanished.

Yet again Jien refused to acknowledge his fear that Gojyo was dead.

"You can stop your brooding now, we're here." Toki cheerfully punched Jien's shoulder.

Jien started and quickly looked around. "Sorry." He couldn't for the life of him remember anything about the walk. Shit. Working for Shoichi was dangerous. He needed to put aside his worries and focus.

"'T's okay. I've been keeping an eye out. Just don't make a habit of it, okay?"

"Yeah." Jien pushed open the outer door, thick with graffiti, and followed Toki up the ill-lit and rubbish-strewn stairs.

Ichiro opened the door before Toki knocked.

"Fuck. Took you long enough." He closed the door behind them and led them into the kitchen.

The rest of the gang were already there, Shoichi and Hajime sitting at one end of the kitchen table and poring over pages dark with Hajime's cramped writing, while Jiro and Akio traded insults over cards at the other. Masaaki leaned against the far wall, arms crossed.

"Deal me in," Ichiro said, pushing a chair next to Akio, who good-naturedly made room for him.

"Me too," Toki said, winking at Jien. "I've got money in my pocket, and it wants some company."

"Piss off," Jiro said as he dealt. "You play poker like a fucking grade-school teacher. And you two," he pointed at Ichiro and Akio, "no fucking doubling up of your hands this time. Fuck. You don't play poker with a partner."

Akio smiled. "We do."

"Damned straight," Ichiro said. "So piss off yourself, jerk."

Jien crossed the room to join Masaaki, who was watching the room with a deceptively lazy air. "What's going on?"

"Final plans for the new job," Masaaki replied, keeping his voice low. "Hajime wants to make sure that we're covered in case things go sour."

"I haven't heard much," Jien said. "Toki thinks the guy we're going after is pretty dangerous. What's so special about him? Other than being sealed for five centuries."

Masaaki glanced at him, surprised. "He's a mage. And hell, man, he's Gyumaoh's son."

Jien frowned. "Are you saying that this prince is going to start eating humans, too?"

"You don't get sealed for being a good guy."

Jien didn't answer, since Masaaki had a point. "A mage, huh?"

"Lucky we've got you and that damned sword of yours."

Jien grunted, uncomfortable with Masaaki's confidence. A mage. In this day and age? "Mages use magic to make pacts with the underworld, right? Think this sword can take out a fiend?"

"I think that sword could take out the devil himself."

Jien didn't reply. He respected Masaaki, who acted as Shoichi's personal bodyguard and was unwavering in his loyalty to the gang leader. The human was older than anyone else in the group, tall, with a lean, powerful frame. Somewhere in his past he'd lost an eye, and his hair was mostly gunmetal gray, but he was tireless and had taught Jien several deadly and efficient moves. Jien remembered Old Tan and a wave of homesickness swept over him; he turned his attention to the poker game as a distraction from his thoughts.

Despite Jiro's glares, Ichiro and Akio played together as they always did, Ichiro tapping the table impatiently while Toki discarded and said, "Give me two." Leaning over to murmur in Ichiro's ear, Akio smiled serenely at their hand.

Ichiro always put Jien on edge. He was never still, his body in constant nervous motion and his sharp features sneering except when he looked at Akio, when warmth and a strange, gentle affection lit his face.

In direct contrast to Ichiro's lankiness, Akio was slight, even smaller than Toki; Jien had never seen another youkai with Akio's build. Not that his size mattered. Jien had seen Akio in action, his moves so rapid that he seemed to flicker through a fight; he was one of the most skilled martial artists that Jien had ever seen.

While no one in the gang could quite figure the relationship out, it didn't matter, really. The calm, slight youkai and the tall, twitchy human were the best all-around team that Shoichi had, equally as adept at extortion as they were at circumventing the most intricate security arrangements. None of the other group members dared challenge them, wary of Akio's reputation for swift retribution. There was just some sort of weird synergy between the two men, though Jien didn't think it was sexual, not with Akio's taste for expensive women.

"Fucking bastards!" Jiro threw down his cards. "I fucking told you, don't play fucking double-handed poker, assholes!" He shoved his chair back violently and grabbed Ichiro's collar, dragging him across the table.

Anyone else would have been intimidated, himself included, Jien figured. Jiro was the thug of the group, a huge, hulking youkai with a cunning, lethal mind. But Akio did something too fast to see, and Jiro was sprawled on the floor while Ichiro straightened his collar and glared at him.

"You stupid bastard! Fucking deal the cards and stop bitching."

"Ichiro's right. You don't have to play if you object to our methods," Akio said mildly.

"You're fucking cheats!"

"I'm not a fucking ch—"

"Please keep the histrionics to a minimum," Shoichi murmured.

Ichiro immediately shut up; Masaaki shifted, on alert. Sullenly, Jiro picked up his chair and sat back at the table, and Jien felt Masaaki relax again.

"I'll deal," Toki said, gathering the cards. "Throw your money in the pot and let's go."

The game resumed, but there was an undercurrent in the room that skittered across Jien's nerves and made the sword hum in its scabbard. Though they all tried to hide it, Jien realized that everyone's attention was on the two men at the end of the table. The awareness was betrayed by glances and the tilt of heads, by Akio's deliberate calm and Ichiro's increasingly uncoordinated movements, by Masaaki's vigilant eyes, by Jiro's simmering anger, by Toki's constant joking.

Shoichi and Hajime both intimidated and fascinated Jien. While the gang kept quiet about it on the street, they all knew that Shoichi's successes depended as much on the talents of his second-in-command as they did on his own extraordinary skills. Both men exuded confidence and intelligence, but physically they were almost grotesquely mismatched. Hajime had been badly burned at some point in his life; the heavy-set youkai's ears were missing, as was part of his nose, and his head and face were shiny and hairless with scar tissue. In direct contrast, Shoichi was a photographer's dream, silver hair flowing past his waist and pulled back in an intricate knot, exposing graceful, pointed ears and a surprisingly beautiful face, with shrewd green eyes that missed nothing.

It was an open secret that they had a long-standing sexual relationship as well, a fact that was never mentioned aloud, even within the group.

Shoichi shifted in his chair and a strange ripple seemed to run through the room. Jiro threw his cards on the table and the other three players immediately stopped talking and did the same, Ichiro practically vibrating. Out of the corner of his eye, Jien saw Masaaki lean forward slightly, his body tense. Everyone looked at Shoichi expectantly.

He looked up, his gaze assessing each of them. When he reached Jien, he frowned, then his gaze slid to Masaaki and back to Hajime. He nodded and Hajime gave him a small half-smile in return.

"Before I start giving you assignments, I want to make one thing clear: this job is going to be the biggest one of our lives," Shoichi said. "And the most dangerous. We'll need to leave the mainland the moment we're finished. India and China will be way too hot. Do any of you have a problem with that?"

Jien felt his heart freeze over. Gojyo.

Toki hadn't found anything that would give a clue to Gojyo's whereabouts. He had no leads to follow if he stayed. If Gojyo had survived the past three years, he'd already done it without Jien's help. Hell, he might not even remember Jien any more, or he might hate his guts for what he'd done.

Jien closed his eyes. It didn't matter. Gojyo was his brother. "I don't want to leave."

Shoichi seemed to have expected Jien's answer. "You're going to be a marked man after this, Sha. If your brother is alive, the last thing that you'll want to do is to expose him to the kind of retribution that Gyumaoh's son would likely take."

Jien cursed softly and felt his heart sink. Shoichi was right. Everyone living in the shady recesses of this part of town knew that he was one of Shoichi's group, so even if he left – even if the others would let him leave alive – he'd be a target once the job went down. The bounty on his head would be too large for any self-respecting nark to ignore, and Gojyo would be logical bait if someone found him before Jien did.

His last shred of hope disappeared. If the only way he could protect Gojyo was by never seeing him again… Oh, fuck. Gojyo.

"All right. I'm in," he said, finally looking up and meeting Shoichi's eyes. The sword rattled at his side, and he could swear he heard its laughter in his head.

Shoichi nodded. "Good man." His demeanor abruptly changed as he relaxed, a smile playing across his face. "The target is Houtou Castle."

Murmurs rippled through the room, but quieted when Shoichi raised an eyebrow.

"Legend has it that Gyumaoh made a fortune from his raids against humans. With the castle being sealed, chances are the treasure is still there. We're going to be looking for whatever portable valuables there are to find, the more portable and higher quality, the better. Gold, silver, gems, magical artefacts if they're not too big. Ideally, we need to find Gyumaoh's treasury, but personal family stashes shouldn't be overlooked."

"Houtou itself, huh?" Jiro looked thoughtful. "I thought we were gonna go for whatever the prince had on him, maybe hit his rooms or something."

"The prince doesn't appear to have a residence outside of the castle," Shoichi said. "But we're in luck. Hajime found an old sketch of the interior of the castle that he lifted from the military archives two jobs ago. It gives us a starting place."

"What's the plan?" Akio asked.

"Three teams. Akio, you and Jiro will be our inside team, scouting the place, updating the floor plans, identifying security patterns and details. They seem to be hiring a lot of youkai these days as castle help. Jiro, you ever handle a dragon before?"

"Dragons? Shit." Jiro's eyes glowed with interest. "Nah, but nobody else in the last five hundred years has either, so that shouldn't count against me. Yeah, I could do that." He grinned.

"Good. Here's the information on a job in the stables." Shoichi pushed a paper over to him. "Akio, you're the inside man. They're hiring for security. Hajime's got some military identity papers for you to use. Memorize that background stone cold and get yourself hired. We need to know the castle's systems down to the kind of flour they use in their bread, got it?"

Akio nodded and took the papers, glancing at Ichiro, who frowned irritably at Shoichi.

"What about me?"

"Word is that Houtou is demon-only, and pretty fanatical about it, too," Shoichi said. "The humans are going to have to stay in the background for this one, so the three of you are the second team. Ichiro, I need you to work with Toki to compile all of the info that Akio and Jiro send us about security and come up with ways to get around it. Both of you will be helping Masaaki with our regular ops, too – we don't want to arouse any suspicions. Keep it business as usual."

Ichiro looked dissatisfied, but grunted, tapping his foot. "Fine." He glanced at Akio, who shrugged.

"What about me?" Jien asked.

Shoichi turned to him. "I'll talk to you separately about your assignment."

Jien nodded, apprehensive.

"Right. Each team meets with Hajime and me to go over specifics. We're going to take our time with this job, everyone. I want attention to detail to be your mantra. Toki will be the go-between once Akio and Jiro are inside. The rest of you, be ready any time Hajime or I contact you. Does everyone understand?"

Jien watched heads around the table nod and wondered what Shoichi and Hajime had in store for him.

"Right. Akio and Jiro, wait for us in the office. Sha, why don't you go out and grab some food, anything that sounds good. We're going to be here for a while."

"Don't forget the beer," Jiro called as he followed Akio into the office.

Jien sighed. "I'm going."

~~~***~~~

 

"I can't do that!" Jien exclaimed, jumping up from his chair.

"You're the only one," Shoichi said patiently. "The prince has to be kept out of the way at key times. And if he discovers what's happening, you have the best chance of taking him out with that sword of yours."

"Why can't I join the army or his security detail, then?"

"Because he rarely interacts with either on a significant basis. We need you close to him," Hajime said, smirking a bit.

"But prostitution!" Jien exclaimed, dismayed. "I don't know the first thing about having sex with another man. He'll know for sure!" _Not to mention that the thought of having sex with Gyumaoh's son is enough to make a person's skin crawl._

"We're going to teach you," Hajime said, exchanging glances with Shoichi.

"What?" Jien felt himself going red with embarrassment. "Look, guys, I just don't swing that way!"

Shoichi stood and walked over to the window. "We'll make it quite enjoyable for you, I promise," Shoichi said, looking down at the street.

Jien searched his mind desperately for some plausible excuse. "The sword!" He leaned towards Hajime. "He's never going to believe I'm a prostitute if I'm carrying that."

"Which is why you won't be," Hajime said, again glancing at Shoichi, who continued to stare out the window.

"I can't leave it behind," Jien said. "Look, I never told you—"

"We know about the family on the farm," Shoichi said. "We know about your mother's death. We suspect that several youkai murders that took place outside Chang'An at the time of your disappearance might also be connected to you." He finally turned. "We also know what you did with your mother to protect the taboo child that your father left behind."

Jien sat down heavily. "Fuck. Blackmail?"

Hajime shook his head. "We don't believe we need it," he said candidly. "But you also need to know that there is nothing you can hide from us."

"Toki does a hell of a job, doesn't he?" Jien said bitterly.

"He's the best." Shoichi pulled a chair closer to Jien and leaned forward. "Listen, Sha. You need to let go of your fantasies about finding your brother and start to live in the real world. You've used sex as a tool in the past. It's not anything new."

Jien's breath caught. _That was to save my brother's life, you bastards!_ He clenched his hands to keep from slamming his fist into Shoichi's face. "And the sword?" A strange undercurrent of tension swept the room. "What?"

"I know how you can keep the sword with you, but hidden," Hajime said. "It's dangerous, though. Shoichi is concerned."

"If you want to know the truth, I'm fucking terrified," Shoichi said bitterly. He pointed at Jien. "And if you ever repeat that, or what you're about to learn, to anyone, I will track you to the ends of the Earth and kill you. This stays a secret between the three of us."

"How dangerous?" Jien asked.

Hajime laughed. "Take a good look at me and you'll know."

Shit. "Will I get burned as badly as you?"

"You won't look like this if you do things right." He smiled, baring his teeth in a macabre grin. "I'm going to teach you how to reach into Hell itself, my friend," he said softly. "After that, Shoichi and I are going to show you a really, _really_ good time. Ready?"

"No." Jien looked between the two of them. "But I don't think I've got a choice, do I?"

"We could kill you," Shoichi said. "I'd prefer not to, though. Then I'd have to seduce the prince in your place."

Jien shivered. "Fine. Let's get it over with."

"Such enthusiasm," Hajime said. He looked at Shoichi. "Please," he said, his voice suddenly gentle. "You don't have to stay for this part."

Shoichi looked pale but composed. "Get on with it."

Hajime seemed to hesitate, an action so unlike him that Jien's fears increased. Finally, he turned to Jien. "Right. What you have to remember is that the sword is bound to you, no matter what. If you're stronger, or it's more directly connected with this world, or its curse is one that already binds it to this plane of existence, then there's usually no problems."

"Uh, I can't promise any of those things." The sword stirred in his mind, on edge.

"We guessed that," Shoichi said. "You wouldn't be with us, otherwise. Too dangerous to hang around non-criminals, right?"

Was he that transparent? Jien frowned and looked away.

Hajime nodded as if he'd confirmed Shoichi's words. "It doesn't matter. After all, whatever the circumstances, you're here and you've proven yourself. You're a valuable member of the team." He paused. "But it presents problems. If the sword is more powerful than you, and it has an affinity with the dimension in which you store it, it could pull you in."

Better and better. The goddamned sword would likely do it for the sheer hell of it. "Look, really, there has to be another way that I can get close to the prince."

Hajime ignored him. "Mostly, it's a matter of willpower. But you also have to keep in mind the bond that you have. Does it want to be with you?"

_If you leave me, I shall follow,_ echoed in Jien's mind. "Yeah," he said slowly, a cold chill running down his back. "I think the bond's pretty strong. It's been in the family for generations."

"That's good." Hajime looked relieved. "Then what you have to do is to refuse to allow it to pull you anywhere."

"Easier said than done," Jien muttered. "Is there magic or something involved?"

"A little, but nothing that an ordinary person can't do," Hajime replied. Shoichi snorted. Hajime glanced at him and shrugged. "Well, ordinary people who have a demonic object that they need to stash in Hell, anyway. So. You know how it feels to sheath your sword in your scabbard?"

Jien nodded.

"It's almost exactly the same, except that instead of your wooden scabbard, you're using a dimensional one."

"That makes so much sense," Jien said, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

Again, Hajime ignored him. "Draw your sword."

He waited until Jien reluctantly pulled the sword from its scabbard; Jien heard simultaneous gasps from both Hajime and Shoichi.

Over the years, it had gained more features, until it looked more bone than steel, with veins pulsing around Jien's hand as the sword fitted itself to him. The great eye blinked.

"That's one nasty-looking sword," Hajime said, sounding a bit less confident.

Shoichi looked angry. "You've been carrying that thing around this entire time?"

"You knew I had a demon sword," Jien protested. The sword's hunger started to spread. "Look, let's get on with it. I don't want this thing out any longer than it needs to be."

Hajime nodded, looking a bit pale. "I agree. So. The thing is, you can't see a dimensional scabbard," he continued in a more subdued voice. "To use it, you have to be looking away. But if you do it right, it feels exactly like the same thing, the same sensation of metal sliding into wood and coming to rest. So the trick of it is, you have to sheath the sword without looking at it, and you have to know that you're putting it in the scabbard. Really _feel_ the scabbard, in the air, as a physical object."

"Hajime, that sounds crazy," Jien said.

"It does, doesn't it?" Hajime grinned again. "First, we get rid of your old scabbard." Jien felt a hand at his waist and turned to see Shoichi stepping back with his sword belt in his hands. "Right. Now. Just put the sword away."

"Wait. How do I get it out once I put it in?"

"You'll see. Just put the fucking thing away, would you?"

Taking a deep breath and staring at Hajime, Jien tried to imagine an imaginary scabbard. He slipped the sword into it.

The sword disappeared.

"What the fuck!" Jien said, startled. "Where did it go?"

"Draw it," Hajime said.

"How the hell do I draw something that isn't there?"

"Calm down. You've got a bond with it, remember?"

Jien paused. He could feel the sword's presence like he always felt it these days: malevolent, angry, hungry. He nodded, then, taking a deep breath, he reached out, grasped, and pulled.

The sword slid smoothly into sight, looking somehow smug.

"Holy fuck!" Jien yelped. He hissed. "It's fucking hot, too!"

Shoichi looked shaken, but Hajime just nodded. "That's normal," he said. "It goes away quickly."

Hajime was right; the sword was already cooling. "Does this work anywhere?" Jien asked.

"You could be on the moon and it would work," Hajime said.

"Damn." Jien examined the sword before he sheathed it again. "Do I have to draw it from the same place I sheathed it?"

"I told you, it stays with you. Wherever you go, it's there at your fingertips. You just need to draw it."

A thought suddenly struck Jien and he paled. "It can't get out on its own, can it? And what about other people? Can other people draw it if they know what to do?"

Hajime shook his head. "It's bound to you, so you're the only one who can either sheath it or draw it."

Jien thought about how the sword had taken over its victims when it wasn't under his direct control. He desperately wanted to know if Hajime knew for sure that no one else could touch it, or that it couldn't take someone over while it was sheathed, but he didn't dare belabor the point. He might owe his loyalty to Shoichi, but there were some secrets he instinctively felt nobody in the gang should know.

"It would seem that we've reached the next stage of your training," Shoichi observed. "You seem to be proficient at reaching into Hell. Follow us to the bedroom so we can teach you how to attain Heaven, as well."

~~~***~~~

Jien had to use a great deal of willpower to keep his hands away from his flaccid cock, trying not to look as apprehensive and uncomfortable as he felt as he stared at the two men on the bed.

Shoichi was bloody gorgeous naked, curled in a graceful arc around Hajime's stocky form. Both men lazily fisted themselves, watching Jien closely.

"Has anyone ever fucked you before?" Shoichi reached out and ran his fingers lightly over Jien's thigh.

"No," Jien said, his mouth dry and his heart pounding. "Er, the whole dimensional scabbard thing's got me thinking. Maybe he could fuck a dimensional ass instead?"

"Funny man. There's tricks to keep it from hurting as much, but until you get used to it, it's still probably gonna hurt," Hajime said. "Trick number one: relax. Trick number two: bear down, like you're taking a shit. You're looser that way, and it might keep things from tearing. Trick number three: plenty of lube and fingers beforehand. I advise you to do it yourself, since I doubt that Gyumaoh's son will be the type to take the time. Later you'll be able to take it dry without ripping, but no lube in a virgin asshole is an invitation to peritonitis. Got it?"

"Relax, shit, lube and fingers," Jien repeated. "Fuck."

"That part goes without saying," Shoichi murmured with a smile. "Now, while he's getting you ready back there, I'm going to teach you the fine art of blowing a man's prick."

"Right," Jien said, taking a deep breath and staring at Shoichi's length. "What's the first step?"

"Get on the bed. Hands and knees."

Jien crawled on the bed and shivered as hands began to knead his ass. It seemed unreal, as if it were happening to some other Jien and the sensations had got mixed up between them. He could feel his cock begin to fill, but the pleasure was distant, the hands and the beard-roughened faces nothing like the hands of the women he'd had sex with. It only seemed moments before he felt Shoichi's cock press against his lips and Hajime's cock slide into his ass, but as he started awkwardly sucking the cock presented to him, he ran the experience through his mind and realized that the two men had been taking their time with him, bringing him to full hardness before introducing him to new sensations and experiences. By the time that Hajime finished pounding into him and came, his fingers digging deep into Jien's hips, Jien was moaning constantly.

Shoichi gasped and pulled his hair, thrusting harder into his mouth. "I'm almost there, Sha. You're going to have to swallow. Get used to what it's like. I don't want you getting sick all over the mark, got it?"

Jien grunted and then Shoichi was coming, thick spurts of bitter, salty liquid flooding Jien's tongue. He gagged as Shoichi pressed in deep, but found he could swallow if he held his breath. Hands continued to play with his ass, and when Shoichi finally pulled out, Jien moaned. "Oh, please. God. I need to come."

"The prince won't care," Hajime said. "If you want to come, you'll have to bring yourself off."

Jien slumped sideways on the bed and began to fist his cock, a myriad of sensations overwhelming him as the other two men played with his body, tweaking ultra-sensitive nipples and finger-fucking his asshole. When he finally came, it was devastatingly intense, pulses of come shooting up to his chest; his toes curled and then stiffened as he tried to find more purchase. As the last shudders of pleasure faded, he panted hard, dimly aware of someone pressed against his back, kissing his neck, and someone else licking the ejaculate from his chest and fingers.

"It's been a while, huh, kid?"

Jien opened his eyes at Hajime's words and touched Shoichi's silver hair, spread over his upper body as Shoichi continued to lick him clean. "It reminds me too much," he said, somewhat incoherently, but this time, without the soft give of breasts and the slick heat of a woman's vagina, the sex felt almost clean, somehow.

He pondered his enjoyment as Hajime turned off the light and spooned behind him and Shoichi brought a cloth from the bathroom to finish cleaning him. He still wasn't particularly attracted to men, but he'd liked what a man's body felt like, so he figured that his memories of sex with Hajime and Shoichi would help if he found the prince to be too repugnant. There'd probably be more pain, too – there was no way that Gyumoah's son would be a tender lover. But he knew the basics now, so he could deal with it.

Shoichi climbed back into the bed, pulling a sheet over the three of them and laying his head next to Jien's on the pillow. "I can hear you thinking."

Jien smiled. "The thoughts aren't unpleasant."

Behind him, Hajime began to snore.

Shoichi's hand twitched against his skin. "I suppose that's a relief," he said, his voice mocking.

"I appreciate what the two of you did." Jien shifted a bit on the pillow. "Really. The sex was good, better than I'd thought it would be."

"You're still a kid," Shoichi replied, his voice thoughtful in the darkness. "And not just in years." He put an arm around Jien, pulling him close.

Since Jien reckoned he was right, he stayed silent. The warmth of the bodies pressed against him and the comfortable smells of sex and sweat seemed to be having a mellowing affect on Shoichi, so Jien decided it might be safe to ask him something personal.

"Why did Hajime tell you to leave earlier?"

Shoichi didn't answer right away. "Hajime used to hide the things he stole in Hell," he finally said, his whisper soft yet strangely harsh. "One day, he hid a cursed necklace, one that had a fiend sealed in it. The fiend escaped and tried to pull Hajime into Hell. I was the one who pulled him out."

"Good lord! He was lucky!"

Shoichi shook his head. "No. He wasn't. I was. And part of him still hates me for it."

_Gojyo._ Jien's blood ran cold. Did he hate Jien for saving him?

"Sometimes it's better to just die," Shoichi said.

"I'm sorry," Jien said, "but I can't accept that."

"That's the difference between you and the rest of us, kid."

Long after Shoichi had joined Hajime in sleep, Jien stayed awake, his thoughts chaotic, images of blood and flames interspersed with the memory of how a man's cock felt in his arse and the bitter, potentially addictive taste of a man's semen on his tongue.

~~~***~~~

Toki draped his hood so that his face was in shadow. "He usually comes along every third day at around this time."

Jien grunted, his hood also pulled forward. Even though the sun shone, the neighbourhood seemed a part of the shadows, market stalls displaying produce and cheaply-made clothing of the sort that wouldn't be offered for sale in more affluent areas, the stalls mainly lending cover for surreptitious exchanges of goods in whispered transactions. Quite a few people were about, but they skittered down the street, none making eye contact. Except for the prostitutes that stood at every corner and in the recesses of doorways, most people seemed more interested in passing through as quickly as possible than in conducting business.

"Why does he come here?" Jien asked.

Toki flashed him a grin. "Uh uh. I'm not giving you any more info than what you need to have. You're a good guy, Jien, but your poker face is shit. The less you know about him, the less your chances are of giving away the fact that you _do_ know things about him."

Disgruntled, Jien had to admit to the fairness of Toki's words. He sighed and kept watching. A movement at one end of the street caught his eye and he turned his head.

"Who the hell is that?" Jien muttered. The slim youkai looked absurdly out of place in the crowd. Something looked familiar about him…

"That's your target," Toki said gleefully.

Jien blinked; his heart began to thud in his chest as he gazed, stunned, at the man walking towards them.

"I don't believe it," he whispered. _Gojyo. Gojyo as a grown man._

The man moved through the crowds, which parted before him as people scrambled to get out of his way. Ignoring the whispers in his wake, he walked with an air that fell just short of haughty, obviously extremely self-assured. He had no bodyguard, and he ignored equally the piles of trash and the importuning of the prostitutes he passed.

Not Gojyo, but Gojyo all the same. The same red hair, the same slight but lanky build – oh, hell, and a birthmark that looked like the slashes that had crossed Gojyo's cheek the day Jien had left. "This is—" He turned to Toki. "Toki, I don't think I—"

"Too late," Toki said, pushing him forward. "It's going down!"

Jien stumbled out of the shadows and instinctively looked around for enemies, immediately spotting a huge youkai bearing down on the prince from behind, a gleam of metal in his hand. Jien's hand instinctively reached for his sword, but he stopped himself in time before he drew it from its dimensional scabbard. He couldn't use the sword, not for this.

The youkai was getting closer, and the prince still hadn't noticed. Just like Gojyo never noticed danger, too bloody naïve….

"Watch out!" Jien shouted, and he wasn't sure if he was shouting for the prince or for Gojyo, but the youkai was moving so Jien sprang forward, pushing the prince at the same moment that the youkai's hand flashed out, holding a wicked-looking blade. Jien felt pain flame across his abdomen and stumbled, but managed to stay on his feet. He whirled to face the youkai.

The prince was already there, graceful and dangerous. Two quick moves and the knife was lying on the ground, the youkai lying beside it, nursing an obviously broken arm as the prince knelt beside him, holding him by the collar.

"Who sent you?" The prince's deep voice made Jien's blood run cold.

"M-my lord," the youkai gasped, looking desperate. "P-please. Spare me."

"Why should I?"

The youkai tried to bring his hands together as if in supplication, but his face twisted with pain and he stopped. "I didn't know, my lord! I swear I didn't know!"

The prince studied the man. "Are you an assassin?"

"No!" The youkai shook with pain and terror. "I – I was told that a – a rich man…"

"I see." Jien was close enough to see that the prince was frowning, and his voice no longer sounded as fierce. "You have no job?"

The man hesitated. "My lord," he finally said, sounding ashamed, "who would hire a youkai like me?"

The prince released the man's collar and stood. "Stand up."

The man hesitantly got to his feet, supporting his broken arm.

"Do you want a job?"

The man looked stricken, but hesitantly nodded.

"Report to Houtou Castle. Tell them that Kougaiji sent you, and that you're to be provided with room, board and suitable duties. Do you have any family? If so, I'll make sure that they're provided for as well."

The man shook his head. "I have no family, my lord."

Prince Kougaiji inclined his head. "Tell the physicians to see to that arm. If you work hard, you'll be rewarded." He turned away, obviously dismissing the man, who bowed awkwardly at his back and stumbled away, looking dazed. Jien suddenly found himself the object of a sharp gaze. "Are you injured?"

Jien became aware that he was holding his stomach. He looked down to see a large red stain spreading across his shirt, and he suddenly realized that the wound hurt like bloody hell. "Yeah." Looking at Kougaiji's grave face, he amended his answer. "Yes, my lord."

"That looks like it may need stitches. Come with me." Kougaiji slid an arm around Jien. Before Jien could say anything, there was a burst of bright light and a sucking sensation. He had the impression of heat and a vast void that made his flesh crawl, then suddenly they were in a large room.

"What the fuck!" Jien said, staggering a bit.

"I transported us to my rooms," Prince Kougaiji said, steadying him. "I want my apothecary to take a look at that wound."

Not quite sure how to respond to the fact that somehow he'd just been transported directly to Kougaiji's apartment, Jien said, "Uh. Thanks." He straightened, only to hiss in pain and clutch harder at his stomach.

Prince Kougaiji caught him before he fell. "Over here." Kougaiji guided him to a curtain, and pulled it back to reveal an alcove occupied by a large bed with silk coverings. "Sit." Once he'd lowered Jien to the bed, he began to remove his shirt.

Jien felt an insanely strong urge to laugh. There he was, in what was probably Kougaiji's bed, Kougaiji systematically stripping off his clothing, and he hadn't even propositioned the guy yet. "Uh, I can do that," he said, flushing with combined embarrassment and suppressed – and somewhat hysterical – hilarity.

Kougaiji only said, "Lie back," and helped him to swing his legs up on the bed. Once Jien was prone, Kougaiji pulled the curtain aside and summoned a man who looked as if he were a guard. "Send a messenger for Yaone. Please tell her to report to my quarters."

Jien heard a muffled reply and the sound of footsteps receding. "Look, I can find a doctor—" he started to say. A stern gaze stopped his words. "Uh, thanks," he mumbled instead, feeling his face flush.

Kougaiji returned to the bed. "What possessed you to get between me and my attacker?"

"I didn't think you saw him," Jien said, watching Kougaiji's face as he gently pressed Jien's abdomen around the wound. "It's not so bad. Really."

"It doesn't appear the blade was poisoned." Kougaiji straightened and wiped his hands with a section of the bed's coverings. "And you didn't answer my question. That part of the city is dangerous. I doubt that you make a practice of trying to save everyone who gets attacked."

"No." Jien found himself reluctant to lie to Kougaiji. "You reminded me of someone."

Kougaiji arched an eyebrow. "Someone unable to defend himself?"

"Yeah." He shook his head and grinned. "Obviously not the case here."

"I command my father's army," Kougaiji said, a slight smile playing across his lips. "I'm not in the habit of being indebted to someone for rescuing me."

"Yeah, well." Jien shrugged. "Technically, I didn't. If anything, I'm in your debt, since you're patching me up." He hesitated. "Why did you give your attacker a job?"

"His attack had no evil intent."

"What? Uh, excuse me Your Highness, but—that doesn't really make sense. He had a knife."

"You don't need to be formal with me." The amused look grew more pronounced. "When I looked into his eyes, I saw a desperate man, not an evil one."

Jien stared at Kougaiji, stunned by the simple answer. "But—"

"Excuse me?" a woman's voice said.

Jien sat up, surprised, and immediately sank back to the bed stifling a pained groan as Kougaiji gestured for the new arrival to come closer.

"This is Yaone, my apothecary." He turned to the woman. "Yaone, this man has been injured. Could you please examine him?"

"Of course, Lord Kougaiji." She smiled – a really sweet smile, like she was really glad to help – and crossed to the bed. "If you'll excuse us?"

Kougaiji bowed his head and withdrew, allowing the curtains to fall shut behind him.

"Thanks," Jien said awkwardly as cool hands began to clean his wound.

"Please, call me Yaone." She rummaged in the bag that she'd brought and pulled out a packet. "This will sting, I'm afraid."

The powder she sprinkled on his wound burned like holy hell, but Jien clenched his jaw and waited it out. After a few moments, the area went numb.

"That will help it to heal faster, and also acts as an analgesic," she said, pulling a spool and a small case from her bag. "I'm afraid that the wound will require stitches. But if the powder does its work, it shouldn't scar. At least, not badly."

Jien watched her thread a wicked-looking curved needle and felt the blood drain from his face. He turned his head away after the first stitch, not sure if he was going to be sick or not, but managed not to make a fool of himself. When she reached for the bandages, he glanced down. The stitches were neat and even: the skin didn't even pucker.

"You're pretty good," he said.

"Have you had stitches before?"

"Once, when I was a kid. I fell out of a tree and cut the back of my head open. Couldn't see what was going on that time," he said ruefully. "You've got a better stomach for it than I do, that's for sure."

"Oh!" She blushed. "I'm just used to it."

"Bandage up a lot of people?"

"No. I'm Lord Kougaiji's personal apothecary. But I used to help my parents at their shop."

Jien smiled. "Pretty unusual, apothecaries that do medical work."

She smiled back at him, looking almost mischievous. "Pretty unusual, jumping between a stranger and a person attacking him."

"Yeah, well," Jien mumbled, embarrassed. "It's nothing. I'm glad I did, actually. That guy's something, isn't he?"

The woman – Yaone – nodded, her large eyes alight. "Lord Kougaiji is a very good man," she said, equally softly. "He saved me, too."

Surprised, Jien frowned. Saved? Him? Shit. He supposed that was probably how Kougaiji saw it, too. He shook his head. "I don't get it."

"I think—" A flush spread over Yaone's cheeks and she lowered her eyes. "I think he has a very strong sense of justice."

Fuck. Jien closed his eyes. "I should probably get the fuck out of here," he muttered. The plan had made him uncomfortable from the start, and now that he'd actually met Kougaiji, even without the haunting resemblance to Gojyo, he didn't think he could go through with his part of it. It would almost be better to have the gang kill him than to be the one who spied on and betrayed the prince.

"Forgive me," Yaone said. "It's just—" She paused, her face positively flaming.

"What?" Jien asked.

"You're very like him," she said. "I can tell. And I think he likes you. I've never seen him act like this with anyone. I mean… bringing you here, having me see to you. And he's so lonely—" She abruptly stopped speaking and finished tying off the bandage.

"You've got me wrong," Jien said, struggling to sit up and reach for his shirt. Enough was enough. He'd take his chances with Shoichi and the others. "I'm nobody. Really. I need to get going."

She pushed him back with a surprisingly strong hand. "You're injured. You shouldn't be moving."

"Look," Jien paused, torn between telling her the truth and continuing the deception. "The last thing Kougaiji needs is to be seen with someone like me."

Kougaiji pulled back the curtain and entered the alcove. "I'll choose my own company." He looked at Yaone. "How is he?"

"I'm fine," Jien answered for her. "I'll just be going." He tried to stand, but Yaone stopped him, a firm hand placed on his shoulder.

"I've treated and bandaged his wound, Lord Kougaiji. But I would like him to rest for at least a week to give it time to heal sufficiently. Too much movement could rip the stitches open."

"Then you'll remain here," Kougaiji said to Jien. "Do you have any family that we should notify?"

The inquiry hurt worse than the wound. "No," Jien said, looking away. "Thanks, er, Miss Yaone."

"Just Yaone. And you're very welcome. I'll check on you again in the morning."

Jien hoped he wouldn't be there in the morning. "I appreciate it."

"Thank you, Yaone."

Yaone bowed. "Lord Kougaiji. And—" She hesitated.

"Zou. Just Zou," Jien said, giving the name that Shoichi had told him to use. He could feel his face burning. Damn, but he hated lies.

"Mr. Zou." With a shy smile, Yaone left.

"Thanks a lot for having her look at me," Jien said, "but really, I can't stay."

Kougaiji studied him. "Your name isn't Zou."

Jien's eyes dropped beneath the intense gaze and he sighed. "No. But please don't ask me what it is."

"I see. And if I offered you a job, you wouldn't take it, would you?"

Jien looked up and tried to smile. "I don't have family, but I do have obligations."

Kougaiji nodded, examining him with a grave face. "I understand."

Warmth and a feeling of respect grew inside him. He believed that Kougaiji actually _did_ understand. Gyumaoh's son was nothing like he'd imagined. No monster here, just a man weighed by responsibilities and capable of startling acts of compassion.

_I can't do this._

"Can't do what?"

Jien started. Shit. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I'd spoken. Look, I really should go now."

"No. Yaone said you needed rest."

"I can rest at home—"

Kougaiji took his shoulder. "Please. Stay."

"Why?" Jien couldn't keep the frustration out of his voice, torn between his job and his instinct to do what was right.

Kougaiji hesitated. "I can't answer that," he finally said, looking thoughtful. "I just know that I want you here."

Jien gave an exasperated grunt. "You don't know me! I could be—hell, I could be a murderer, or a thief, or a—" _Prostitute_. He closed his eyes; he was all of those things. "You shouldn't just trust people."

"I never said I trusted you. Only that I want you here."

Stubborn. Just like Gojyo. Never learned to question others' motives, disregarding his own safety— "Oh, fuck!" Jien grabbed the hand on his shoulder and yanked, pulling the startled prince forward. He hooked an arm around his neck and dragged him down, taking his lips in a fierce kiss.

Kougaiji froze, his lips stiff and unresponsive on Jien's.

Jien broke the kiss. "I'm a prostitute," he choked. He'd go along with it, at least until he could get it through this proud man's head that unconditional trust was dangerous. Fuck. He hated this job, hated what he was about to do to a good, decent man, hated that Kougaiji was just so damned _naïve_.

He'd messed up teaching that lesson to Gojyo. Maybe if he had got it right, things wouldn't have turned out the way that they had; maybe they would have got away before anyone had to die or get left behind. And now here he was, face to face with that same stubborn independence that was too blind for its own good. Since it looked like he'd be forced to stay – at least for now – he wasn't going to mess the lesson up this time.

Kougaiji pushed away from Jien, but remained half on the bed, bent over him.

"You don't seem like a typical prostitute to me."

Fuck. Shoichi's cover story sucked, but it was all he had to work with. "I'm not, I guess. I mean, I've done it in the past." He shrugged, uncomfortable. "Sometimes… it's the only way." There. The truth as Shoichi had seen it, and who was to say it wasn't?

Kougaiji nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on Jien's face. "And if I became your patron?"

"Huh?"

"Would you allow me to hire you? In your professional capacity?"

"You want to pay me for sex?" Jien blurted.

Kougaiji looked amused. "That's generally the transaction, isn't it?"

"But why me?"

"You're available, aren't you?"

"I, um, sure," Jien said, swallowing hard. "Okay. Then – okay. Er, what do you want?" Kougaiji raised an eyebrow in enquiry, so he clarified, his face burning. "I mean, mouth or, ah, ass?"

When Kougaiji smiled, he was really attractive. "I want you to lie back. I would simply like," he hesitated, and grew red in turn before saying, "I would like to touch you."

Jien's heart was pounding so loudly he wondered if one of the guards would hear it. He reached for his trouser fastenings, but Kougaiji put a hand over his and shook his head.

"Let me."

Jien could hear Kougaiji's breathing quicken as he deftly opened his trousers and pulled them down, Jien awkwardly raising his hips for him. He felt his cock begin to stir as he watched Kougaiji get undressed in turn.

Kougaiji's body was beautiful, smooth planes of muscle and golden skin as hairless and fine as a young boy's. Jien was startled to see that he was already erect. He reached for Kougaiji's cock, but Kougaiji gently pushed his hand away.

"You're injured."

"My hand isn't," Jien pointed out. "I'm probably not up to being an energetic fuck, but I can jack you off or suck you or something. Or you could fuck me – I just won't be moving a whole hell of a lot."

"Don't be absurd." Kougaiji carefully lowered his upper body over Jien's, snaking a leg between Jien's thighs. "I'm not doing anything that could hurt you."

"I don't get it." Jien stroked Kougaiji's skin. "You could have anyone. Why me?"

"You interest me."

"Your Highness—"

"Just Kougaiji." Kougaiji touched Jien's mouth, running a thumb over his bottom lip. "You aren't like anyone else."

"Oh, fuck." Jien closed his eyes. "Like you are, either. Have you done this with a guy before?"

Kougaiji shook his head.

"If you slide up and don't mind letting your knees take your weight, I'll suck you."

"I want to bring you pleasure."

"You can. Later. Right now I want to taste you." And oddly enough, Jien did, even though he hadn't been wholly enthusiastic about sucking off Shoichi. But Jien found himself curious to see if Kougaiji would lose his calm, remote composure, to see if the deep furrows over his brows could possibly disappear if he were relaxed and satiated.

Kougaiji's cock twitched in a satisfying way as he carefully moved into position. Jien breathed in deeply; Kougaiji smelled of exotic spices and musk, with a hint of brimstone, a combination that left Jien's mouth watering. Feeling a bit punch-drunk, he grasped Kougaiji's tight ass and pulled his groin forward until he could suck him in.

"Hah!" Kougaiji threw back his head and his hips surged forward. His cock was heavy and firm on Jien's tongue, hot and salty and sweet, and he eagerly swirled his tongue around the shaft and sucked as Kougaiji began to move in a gentle rhythm. Jien ran his hands over Kougaiji's ass, dipping his fingers into the crease between the cheeks and feeling for the tight bud. He stroked and pressed against it, playing with the sensitive area. Kougaiji groaned and curled forward, bowed over Jien's head.

"Put it in," he said.

Without taking his mouth from Kougaiji's cock, Jien blindly lifted his hand towards Kougaiji's head. Kougaiji captured it and sucked on his fingers, his tongue caressing them until they were wet. Jien gently withdrew them and resumed playing with Kougaiji's ass, circling the opening lightly, enjoying Kougaiji's involuntary shudder, before pressing down on the strong outer muscles until they relaxed. Hot, soft flesh clamped down on his finger as it sank into Kougaiji's body.

This was nothing like his experience with Shoichi and Hajime. There was no dream-like detachment, this was real. Jien revelled in the heat and smells and tastes and sounds that came from Kougaiji, and felt his cock harden until it ached.

"Yes." Kougaiji's thrusts gained momentum as he fucked himself on Jien's finger, his cock hard and eager in Jien's mouth. Jien attacked the head of Kougaiji's cock, sucking hard and thrusting his tongue into the slit before plunging all the way down, taking it in to the root. He pressed a second finger into Kougaiji's hole, and Kougaiji cried out softly and stiffened as he came in Jien's mouth. Jien swallowed, then suckled him through the aftermaths of orgasm, moving his fingers in and out, feeling Kougaiji's muscles clench around him.

Kougaiji eased himself back, his cock hanging soft and tempting between his legs. He rearranged himself until he was cradling Jien in his arms, gently rubbing his chest.

"Thank you," he murmured. Jien stifled a laugh and Kougaiji frowned. "What?"

Jien grinned. "It's just weird, that's all. Being thanked for sex by a prince."

Kougaiji relaxed and smiled back. "I'm not a prince now. I'm just Kougaiji." He slipped his fingers between Jien's thighs and took hold of his cock. Jien gasped as the warm hand closed around him. "I want to pleasure you."

"Ah!" Jien's hips jerked as Kougaiji began to stroke him. Rough calluses caught against sensitive skin in a way that Jien found to be incredibly sexy and hot. Kougaiji's grip was firm and almost liquid, moving in a complex twisting and massaging motion. Jien leaned against Kougaiji's chest; he felt Kougaji's racing heartbeat, and had trouble catching his breath as his own heart raced as well. Kougaiji's thumb rubbed over the head of his cock, scooping moisture from his slit and spreading it. "Gonna come," Jien managed to say as the heat grew in his belly and his balls contracted.

Kougaiji bent over him. "I want to watch you." Jien blinked; Kougaiji's face was intent, his expression possessive. He rubbed his thumb over Jien's slit again and Jien was lost.

"Kou-- Fuck!"

He helplessly spilled over Kougaiji's hand, trying to thrust instinctively though Kougaiji held him down, unable to look away from Kougaiji's dark, hungry eyes.

His climax faded, and he sank into Kougaiji's embrace, utterly spent. They lay entwined, Kougaiji's firm thigh pressed against his spent flesh with warm familiarity, arms wrapped tight around him.

Kougaiji smiled. "Kou. No one's called me that since—" His eyes went dark and his smile faded, leaving his face oddly vulnerable. "Not in a long time."

_Gojyo._ His brother's face flashed in front of him, so young and yet much, much too old. His breath caught. Damn.

Gojyo. Kou.

He shifted uncomfortably and hissed as the wound stretched.

"Are you alright?"

"I think I may have done something stupid."

"There's no blood staining the bandages."

"Good. False alarm. The pain's going away, anyhow." Jien gingerly disentangled himself, moving carefully. "Give me your hand."

Kougaiji allowed Jien to take his sticky hand without comment, though he inhaled abruptly as Jien brought it to his mouth and licked it clean. When Jien was finished, Kougaiji bent over and kissed him hard, running his tongue through Jien's mouth. Jien relaxed into the kiss, stroking Kougaiji's probing tongue with his own and offering his taste back to him.

Kougaiji finally pulled away. "You'll stay?"

Jien's heart sank again. "I'm not a good man, Kou. You'll regret it."

Kougaiji settled in next to Jien, pulling the blankets over them both. "I'll take that chance."

~~~***~~~

Jien woke to soft voices. His wound felt tender and hot, burning with a dull, throbbing pain. He lay in the bed, eyes closed. The sword hummed in the Hell dimension, sounding dissatisfied, but Jien ignored it.

"Lord Kougaiji, I can get my own supplies. Please don't go into that part of the city any longer."

"I won't allow you. Hyakugen-maou is still angry. If his people should find you alone, I may not be able to intervene in time."

"But Lord Kougaiji—"

"No, Yaone."

Jien felt a wave of longing wash over him. These were good people, people who cared about each other. He agreed with Yaone – Kougaiji shouldn't be exposed to random dangers, not when his life was full of deliberate ones. If he were part of this household, he'd make sure that Yaone learned how to fight and defend herself, perhaps even how to take the offensive so that she could be by Kou's side…

… And while he was at it, why not imagine that he'd wake up to see Gojyo's grin again, or his mum alive and sane?

The curtain was pushed aside and Yaone came to his bedside. "Good morning," she said, her smile warm and shy, though her eyes were troubled.

Jien tried to smile in return. "'Morning."

"Are you in any pain?" Gentle fingers pressed against his bandages and he sucked his breath in sharply. She nodded. "I thought you might be. The powder only lasts about twelve hours. I'll re-bandage the wound and make sure that there's no sign of infection and that the stitches are holding, then I'll leave a few doses of pain-killers for you to use as needed."

"It didn't hurt this badly yesterday," Jien said, frustrated.

"It's always worse the second day," she said more cheerfully as she unwrapped the bandage. "Your body still remembers how it felt when it was fully healthy, so it's protesting. The numbing effect that the initial shock had on your system has worn off, too." She probed the area of the wound again. "You're healing well. I'll just dust it with some more powder and re-bandage it, and then we'll be done."

The wound really did look pretty good. Good enough for Jien to figure he could leave, anyway, though he'd be sore. He winced again when she sprinkled the stinging powder over the wound. "Thanks for the pain-killer offer. I'll take you up on it. But I need to go back today." His impulse to take his chances with the gang had solidified into firm purpose overnight. There had to be another way for Kougaiji to be kept distracted during the actual job. He needed to talk to Hajime and Shoichi as soon as possible—

"Please wait at least another day," Yaone said, distracting him from his plans. "In fact, it would be best if you remained here for the full week. By then your body will have healed enough to withstand normal activity, if you use care." She sat back. "There. I'm finished."

"Er, speaking of normal activity…"

"There's a chamber pot if you need it. Would you like me to help?"

"No, that's fine," Jien replied fervently. "I can manage."

Embarrassing but necessary matters having been seen to and a servant having disposed of the results, Jien realized that he was starving. Before he could say anything, however, the curtain parted and Kougaiji stepped into the alcove. He held the curtain while two servants brought in a small table and chair that they placed by the bed. They threw a fine cloth over the table and laid it for two, just before another servant carried in an enormous tray with covered dishes. The smells that wafted up made Jien's mouth water.

Kougaiji allowed the curtain to drop when the servants left. "Good morning. Yaone tells me that you're healing well." He pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat. "Are you hungry?"

"Ravenous," Jien admitted. "It smells great."

They ate in silence. The food tasted as good as it smelled, and Jien unabashedly refilled his plate twice. He frowned at Kougaiji's nearly full plate. "Did you eat earlier?"

Kougaiji glanced down at his plate as if surprised to see it there. "No."

"Well, why aren't you eating?"

"Yaone told me that you want to leave. Today."

"You aren't eating because I'm leaving?"

"No. I'm changing the subject." Kougaiji frowned. "I need little to satisfy my hunger."

"No wonder you're so thin," Jien said critically. "You look like a kid, you know."

"And now you're avoiding the subject."

Jien sighed and pushed away his plate, settling back on the pillows. "I told you last night, it's not good for you if I'm here."

"I'm in the habit of determining whether or not something is good for me."

"And that's where you set yourself up. You should listen to your advisors."

"I have. Yaone said that she recommended that you stay a week."

"Miss Yaone is an apothecary, not an advisor," Jien pointed out.

"I trust her." Kougaiji placed his fork and knife neatly on his plate and pushed it away.

"And you don't trust others," Jien deduced. Kougaiji didn't bother to reply. "Kou, you need more people around you than just Yaone."

Kougaiji regarded him steadily. "I'm aware of that."

"I don't like the way that you're looking at me. Didn't I tell you I shouldn't be trusted?"

"I understand that you owe your allegiance somewhere other than to me." Kougaiji leaned forward. "I would like to change that."

If only things were different: different time, different place, different life… Jien dropped his eyes and shook his head. "If it was possible, I'd take you up on that. But I can't."

"Then I'll take what you give me. Stay."

It was so very tempting to say yes. He wanted it, Kou wanted it, even Yaone seemed to want it. But so did Shoichi, and that made staying dangerous. And though leaving would be even more dangerous, it was the better choice.

Still, he felt a strong reluctance to leave. The plans wouldn't be moving forward just yet. There might still be a little time.

"Tonight," he finally said.

A warm hand grasped his chin and lifted it up gently, then Kougaiji was kissing him. Jien made a small noise and reached for him, returning the kiss, letting Kou feel his hunger and regret. Kougaiji pushed the table aside with his foot and then climbed onto the bed fully clothed.

They kissed, content to rock against each other's hard length through the layers of clothing and bedcovers, not feeling the need to reach completion just yet.

Fuck. Jien's heart ached. What he wouldn't give to be able to do this forever. But they came from two different worlds.

"Do you want your father to be unsealed?" he asked, threading his fingers through Kougaiji's hair and playing with his earring.

"Yes."

"Hmm." Jien loosened Kougaiji's trousers and slid his hand inside, caressing a sleek flank. "Don't take this wrong, but even after five hundred years your dad won't win any popularity contests."

A slight smile graced Kougaiji's features. "It doesn't matter. No matter what brutality or idiocy he practices, he's still my father. Besides, his dreams aren't bad dreams. I also believe that demons need to be united, to have a kingdom that's independent of humans. It's his excesses that have condemned him."

Jien thought of his own father, chasing after dreams of imagined glory through the awakening of a demonic sword, the excesses that had led to Gojyo's danger-fraught childhood and their mother's madness, his acceptance of his father's dreams as his own and the reality of their realization. "I guess we all screw up royally from time to time, huh?"

"It would seem so." Kougaiji's smile faded. "Perhaps, if I can win the trust of the men who choose to fight for the vision of a unified, independent demon kingdom, I can influence what is to come. I don't want people to die unnecessarily, humans or demons."

Jien was struck by Kougaiji's vision and determination. "I hope so. I'd rather have you as our ruler than your dad, that's for sure."

Kougaiji looked startled, staring at him. "That's not what I—"

"I know." Jien grinned. "Modest, aren't you?"

Red tinged Kougaiji's features. "My role is to serve my people."

Jien slid his hand down Kougaiji's belly and took Kougaiji's cock in his hand. "Tell you what. Why don't you start serving me right now?"

Jien took Kougaiji's small gasp and the sounds he made while he sucked him as an affirmative.

~~~***~~~

After Kougaiji left the warm bed, Jien dozed fitfully. He started when someone shook him.

"Kou?" he murmured.

"Sha. Wake up."

The familiar voice jarred him awake, his heart beating fast. "Akio?" Jien sat up, wincing a bit as tender abdominal muscles protested. "Damn. Shoichi could have told me that the guy would have a knife."

"The less you knew, the better," Akio replied. He glanced at the door; Jien noticed that he'd pulled back one edge of the curtain to give him a clear view of it, but he remained hidden himself. "Besides, it all worked out for the best. Who would have thought that Gyumaoh's son would have taken a prostitute to his castle to treat him?"

"He's different," Jien said, feeling strangely protective. "I don't know what Gyumaoh would be like, but Prince Kougaiji is…"

"A pushover?"

"Honest," Jien said. "And fair. He's a decent guy."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Before Jien could answer, Akio shook his head. "Never mind. Shoichi wanted me to get in touch with you, see how you were doing. I managed to get assigned to a patrol unit in this part of the castle."

"What about the others in your unit?"

"It's only the two of us. My partner's off fucking one of the cleaning women while I cover for him." Akio leaned closer. "Is it going down like it's supposed to?"

Jien flushed. "Yeah. But he's off during the day, working. I can't always be beside him."

"You don't need to be. Just keep him occupied at night. Stretch out your stay as long as you can. Play up the injury if you have to. We'll take care of the rest." He glanced at the door again. "Look, I'd better get going. The idiot I'm paired with is probably one of those quick-on-the-draw types, ten minutes tops. Anything Shoichi should know?"

Jien shook his head. "Just… let's try to get this done as quickly as possible, okay?"

Akio squeezed his shoulder. "Sorry, Sha, but we're taking our time with this one. Shoichi wants it done right."

"Yeah, I know. But if there's a way, take it, okay? Find a better map of the place, maybe."

"If we could shit gold, we'd all be rich. Don't worry, your ass will heal. If he gets too rough when he fucks you, just remember that."

"I never really realized what a bastard you could be, Akio," Jien said, annoyed.

Akio grinned. "That's because you're slow on the uptake, aren't you?" He winked, then glided silently across the room and out the door.

Cursing, Jien laid back down. He hated this job. Really, really hated it.

~~~***~~~

Against Yaone's better judgement, Jien persuaded her to allow him to get out of the damned bed and at least sit in a chair.

"I feel fine," he protested as she arranged pillows around him. "Honestly, Yaone. I don't know what you use, but I'm healing really quickly."

"If you're sure," she said doubtfully. "I brought us some tea. I suppose that you can sit for a few minutes and drink it."

"Thanks. I was beginning to feel like I was doomed to dribble my drinks down my chest like a two-year-old for the rest of my life." He took the cup of tea that she offered.

She giggled. "I'm glad you decided to stay. Lord Kougaiji looks more relaxed than he has in a long time."

Jien shot her a glance but she only blinked innocently and sipped her tea. He grunted. "Are you a voyeur or something?"

She laughed out loud this time. "No, but it's also not difficult to put two and two together." She sobered quickly. "And truly, I am grateful to you. He's needed someone for so long."

"I'm not staying, you know."

Yaone held her tea, poised to sip, and didn't meet his eyes. She took a deep breath. "His mother is being held hostage in return for his cooperation in breaking his father's seal."

Jien felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. "What?"

She set her teacup down and leaned forward. "Zou, I trust you."

"Don't. Please."

Ignoring his plea, Yaone continued. "The real person behind this all is his father's – well, mistress," she said, blushing slightly. "Gyokumen Koushu. A human named Ni Jianyi broke her seal nearly a year ago, I think. Since then, the two of them have broken several other seals, including the one binding Lord Kougaiji. I think she needs his help, but she doesn't trust him not to crown himself the king, so she's holding his mother's life over his head to control him."

"Shit." Jien sat his teacup down, still half-full. "Were you sealed, too?"

Yaone shook her head. "About three months ago, a slave trader was taking me to Hyakugen-maou. I was terrified – Hyakugen-maou plays with women and then devours them. Lord Kougaiji was just walking past us, but our eyes met. He looked so kind, and I was so frightened. He stopped us and ended up taking me himself. He made it very clear from the beginning that he'd only done so in order to gain my services as his personal apothecary."

Jien snorted. "He's so full of shit."

They shared a smile.

"Zou," Yaone said softly, "please consider staying here. Permanently."

Jien stopped smiling. "I can't. I'm sorry. And I know you don't believe me, but I keep telling both of you that you're wrong to trust me like this. You should be listening to me."

"He doesn't care about people's pasts, just who they are now." Yaone took Jien's hand in hers. "I don't care, either. Please. We both want you here. And he needs you, very much."

Jien gently pulled his hand away. "I understand. You don't know how much I wish I could stay. But I have my own path to walk, and commitments I've already made. I need to get back to them."

Yaone searched his face. Whatever she saw made her sigh. She blinked back tears, looking sad.

Jien wished he could comfort her. "Are there any—well, I suppose they didn't have photos back then, but are there any paintings of his mother? I'd like to see her."

Yaone shook her head. "Lady Gyukomen destroyed them all. She took all of Queen Rasetsunyo's belongings, too, except for a few pieces that Lord Kougaiji managed to keep from her. His earrings are his mother's. He doesn't say anything, but I think that anything of hers is very precious to him. I don't think he could bear to lose them."

Jien frowned, but Yaone's remark seemed genuinely innocent, so he was sure that she wasn't trying to give him some kind of a hidden warning. But the warning was clear, deliberate or not. He stopped frowning. "I'm really sorry. You don't know how much I'm sorry."

Yaone blinked rapidly a few times, but she smiled. "Thank you for listening to me," she said, standing. "I should get back to my work." She bent forward and kissed Jien's cheek. "I hope you find happiness some day. You deserve it."

Stunned, Jien watched her walk out of the huge double doors.

He spent much of the rest of the day sitting in the chair, thinking hard, but could see no other path for him to take but the one that he'd already decided upon. His apprehension increased when Kougaiji seemed subdued when he arrived late in the day. Jien waited until they'd finished dinner and were lying in the cool shadows of the alcove with the curtains drawn before he spoke.

Drawing a finger down one of Kougaiji's earrings, he said, "Yaone talked to me today."

Kougaiji looked at him sharply. "About what?"

"You. And your mother." Jien bent to give the nipple a kiss. "I thought you'd better know that I know about her."

"I see." Kougaiji sat up. "What exactly did she say?"

Jien laid back and met Kougaji's gaze. "That your father's mistress is holding her hostage to get you to help her. And that you love your mother very much."

Kougaiji was silent for long moments. "She's beautiful," he finally said softly. "Beautiful and gentle and kind."

"I can tell."

"What do you mean?"

"She raised you, didn't she?"

Kougaiji flushed, but didn't reply immediately. "I would do anything to save her," he said at last.

"If she's sealed, she'll never know she's a hostage or that her life is being held over your head." Jien hated being a devil's advocate about something that was so obviously personal, but someone needed to talk to Kou plainly. Even if it didn't change his mind. "I doubt she'd want you to sacrifice your principals for her sake. You've got to follow your own path, Kou."

"It's not just Mother. I have… a sister, as well. A half-sister, really. Gyokumen Koushu is her mother, but Father sired her. I think that her life may also possibly in danger. I overheard Gyokumen talking to her pet human, and she said that Lirin was necessary for Father's resurrection."

A half-sister. "Damn." It sounded like this Gyokumen bitch was a pretty ruthless person.

"It's my fault. I should have acted soon—" Kougaiji gave a frustrated gesture. "That's in the past. Now, I must protect them both."

Jien didn't say anything. There was really nothing to say, even if he wanted to, and his own regrets were too close to the surface for him to comment on Kou's. So he pulled Kou into a kiss and then did his best to bring him pleasure and release, and to give him the gift of a few moments of freedom from the worries that weighed him down.

It wasn't much, but Kou seemed to appreciate it.

~~~***~~~

Every morning, Jien woke up vowing to leave, and every night his guilt grew heavier when he stayed instead. When he'd been at Houtou for a week, he started to get apprehensive. Surely Shoichi hadn't thought that a prostitute would have been able to hold Kougaiji's attention this long, if that had been the original plan. Jien was beginning to have his doubts about that, but he didn't dare ask Akio. Still, he vowed to watch Kou's back as best as he could, at least while he was in his rooms.

Akio didn't show up for a couple of days. Jien had just decided that he'd left the castle or been discovered when he showed up one morning, soon after Kou had left.

"How much longer?" Jien asked.

"Not long," Akio replied. "Shoichi has Hajime working on one or two more details for our escape route, then we're good to go. A day or two at most." He gave Jien a shrewd look. "Tough job, hey?"

Jien grunted. "Yes and no," he said. "Listen, Akio. I'm not backing out, and I'm not going to rat on the plan, but I don't like this. Prince Kougaiji isn't like his dad."

"Damn," Akio said. "Shoichi was afraid of this."

"What?" Jien's anger began to rise at the speculative look on Akio's face. "If you think I'm going to give everything away to Kougaiji--"

Akio shook his head. "It's not that. You're the type to keep his promises."

"Then what?"

"You're not like the rest of us," Akio said, his too-knowing eyes fixed on Jien's. "We're crooks. We prey on people too stupid to guard themselves against people like us. None of us feels any remorse – hell, if I feel anything, it's contempt for all of the idiots that populate the world." He smiled. "You're the opposite. You want to protect those idiots from people like us. Am I right?"

Jien found himself looking away. "I won't betray you and Shoichi and the others," he repeated. "But at least do this for me. Stay out of Kougaiji's rooms when you do the job, okay? He's only got a couple of things, and they mean a lot to him. And talk about vengeance. If we took 'em, I think that he'd track us down to the ends of the Earth."

"One last favor for the boyfriend?" Akio teased. He laughed.

"I'm not kidding. It's dangerous. Just stay out of these rooms, and the rest will be fine."

"All right. Keep your shirt on, Sha. I'll tell Shoichi. If he says it's okay, we'll skip the prince's rooms if it means that much to you. It's not like we're gonna need the extra haul, anyway. Damn. This place is crawling with treasure. We could fly out of here with ten dragons and barely scratch the surface."

"Thanks." Relief swept through Jien; at least he could make sure that Kou didn't lose his mementos of his mother.

Akio paused and sighed; the teasing smile faded. "Look. I know it's tough. Another night or two, and you're not going to see the prince ever again. Stop worrying, okay?"

Jien was silent as Akio left the room, but he hit his pillow, hard, once the door closed.

"Shit," he said, falling back on the bed and throwing an arm over his eyes. "Just… fuck."

~~~***~~~

Akio unexpectedly showed up later that afternoon, about an hour before Jien expected Kou to return.

"You'll be happy to hear this. Things came together faster than Shoichi thought. It's tonight. Here's something to put in his tea or coffee or whatever." Akio handed Jien a small vial. "Just dump it all in."

"What is it? I'm not giving him poison." He'd take it himself before that.

"Sleeping tonic. Once he's out, take off for the stables. Jiro will be waiting for us there with a dragon. We'll give you until three in the morning. If you don't show up by then—"

"I'll be there."

"You'd better be. Because if you aren't, you better hope that prince of yours kills you before Shoichi can get his hands on you."

"How many times do I have to tell you—"

"Yeah, I know." Akio smiled wryly. "You got the shit job, my friend. And it's even shittier because you're a decent guy."

"It's just a job."

Akio shook his head. "Not for you. Like I said before, you're decent. Me? If I were in your shoes, I'd just slit the prince's throat as soon as he was asleep. Easier and quieter." He frowned. "Look. Shoichi went to a lot of trouble to get you a sleeping draught. He knows you, and no matter what you think of him or the rest of us, you've been loyal, so he's willing to take on a little risk to keep you happy. Just get to the stables before three."

"I'll be there."

Akio clasped his arm tightly. "Keep him busy until midnight at least. See you!" He let go and slipped out of the room.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. So it was time, and he'd been too weak to do the right thing and walk away from Kougaiji before it got to this. He hoped Shoichi had told Akio and Jiro to stay away from Kou's rooms. Small consolation, but it made him feel like he'd tried, anyway. And it would keep Kou from losing anything precious to him.

Other than his pride.

Fuck.

He'd known it would come to this. He had no one to blame but himself and his weakness. He could hear the sword's derisive laughter, but it was nothing in comparison with his own self-loathing.

Jien heard the doors open and whirled around, wincing a bit. "Kou!"

"Are you in pain? You look pale." Kougaiji crossed over to him, frowning.

"I'm doing fine, just a twinge here and there, that's all. Yaone's amazing."

The frown lines relaxed. "Yes. I'm lucky to have found her. But you should rest. Lie down while I have someone bring us up dinner."

"Kou?"

"Yes?"

"I've got to go soon," Jien said hoarsely.

"You've told me that from the beginning," Kougaiji said stoically.

He had no right to ask it, but he said it anyway. "I hope that you know that all of this – that I appreciate it."

"You're saying goodbye, aren't you?"

Jien nodded. "Tonight. That's it, that's all the time I have left. I've got to leave after that."

Kougaiji regarded him thoughtfully. "I understand," he said. "May I offer my help?"

"No," Jien said miserably. "But I'd like to ask you—oh, damn." He walked over to Kougaiji and cupped his cheek. "I want you to fuck me."

"You're not healed yet—"

"It'll be fine. I just… It's important to me, okay? Please?"

Kougaiji didn't answer.

Jien dropped his hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't have any right to ask that."

"You've never once asked me for payment."

Stunned, Jien stepped back. "I—" _Fuck. How could I forget? We're not lovers. He thinks I'm a prostitute._ He swallowed. "No, I haven't."

"Why?"

"Because I'm an idiot," Jien said bitterly.

"If you're not being paid for it as a prostitute, and you're not staying here to be my concubine, why would you want me to have sex with you?"

There was the truth, and then there were lies. Jien made a decision. "I'll need money to get back to town. I'd hoped that you'd offer me— well, a gratuity, I guess. I didn't want to have to ask."

Kougaiji shook his head. "You're not telling me the truth."

_It's all crumbling. Fuck. I'm going to lose everything, and end up screwing up Shoichi's plan in the process._ Aw, hell. What did it matter? If Kou killed him or threw him in prison, a distraction was a distraction, and he was sick of lying. "You're right. I'm not."

"Who are you?"

"I'm sorry, but I won't tell you. It doesn't matter, anyway."

"You're injured in an attack on me, yet you can give me no reason why you intervened. You tell me that you're a prostitute and offer sex freely, yet you never ask for payment. You give me a name, but admit that it's not yours. You tell me not to trust you, yet you act with integrity. Am I wrong to suspect that you're involved in something that revolves around me?"

"If you think it's harmful to you, then your best course of action is to arrest me, isn't it?" Jien replied, his heart pounding.

"If you were any other man, I would." Kougaiji regarded him critically. "Can I have your assurance that no one will be hurt by whatever is going on?"

"You idiot!" Jien burst out. "You can't honestly be thinking of trusting me after all that!"

"It's been quite a while since anyone has had the courage to call me an idiot," Kougaiji said speculatively. "Oddly enough, it's one of the things that I like best about you."

"Oh, damn it." Jien slumped into a chair. His wound ached, but not as much as his heart did. "Just fucking arrest me and have done with it."

"I think I would kill you before I'd place you under arrest. You've acted honourably, as far as I can tell. I don't wish to treat you as a mere criminal. You deserve a clean fate."

"Then go ahead and do it already."

Kougaiji sighed. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because I hope that there may still be a way to redeem the situation."

"That compassionate streak is going to get you killed one of these days." Jien met Kougaiji's eyes. "I can't promise no one will get hurt, but I'm willing to give you my life both as an assurance and as a hostage to repayment of any injuries that might be sustained."

"I won't accept those terms."

"Then what terms will you accept?"

"Only this. That you are free to go or stay, as you choose. But if you stay, you stay as yourself, not as a prostitute, not as a person indebted to me, but as an equal."

"Kou." Jien felt like all of the air had been sucked out of his lungs. "Why?"

"If we are to be enemies, then we'll be enemies face to face. If we're to be friends, then we'll build that friendship on trust."

"And if I want to have sex with you?"

"I won't have sex with you. However, I will be your lover, if you agree to be mine."

"For how long?"

"For whatever time we have. For tonight only, if that's the fate in store for us."

"I shouldn't do this," Jien whispered. "I'll hurt you."

"So you think I'm too weak to bear the pain?"

"'Weak' is the last word that I'd use to describe you," Jien said, his head in his hands. "But that doesn't mean that I want to cause you pain."

"Is the reason that you're hesitant because you don't want to cause me pain? Or is it because you lack the courage to betray me to my face?"

"Damn it!" Jien slammed his fist down on the table and glared at Kougaiji. "I want you, okay? I want you, and I'm pissed because there's no bloody way we're going to get out of this without you hating me forever or one of us dying."

"You seem to have a dim view of the overabundance of compassion you told me that I have," Kougaiji retorted dryly.

"And I keep telling you, I'm not the man you think I am," Jien said, angry.

Suddenly, Kougaiji smiled. "Have you ever realized how very poor you are at lying?"

Kougaiji's smile disarmed him. "Kou," Jien said helplessly, and then Kougaiji was right there and straddling his lap, settling on Jien's legs and pulling him into a fierce, hungry kiss. Jien groaned into it and gave as good as he received, crushing their mouths together until their teeth scraped. They stood, Kougaiji grinding against Jien's groin, his cock hard and demanding, and together they stumbled to the bedroom where they quickly undressed and fell into the bed.

"On your side," Kougaiji said.

Jien obliged and Kougaiji pressed against his back, his cock probing the tight press of Jien's thighs a few times. Then he prepared Jien hurriedly, more a matter of slicking something slippery over the top of his opening and slicking himself than it was of ensuring that Jien was fully lubed, but Jien didn't care. He hissed as Kou eased inside, the stretch both painful and perfect, and then Kou was seated fully, his balls pressed against Jien's ass.

"Fuck me, Kou," Jien demanded. "Hard."

Kougaiji laughed softly. "I'll fuck you however I like," he replied, withdrawing and pressing in again in a smooth, long stroke. Jien ignored the burn of his wound and pushed back to meet him, but Kougaiji held his hips firmly in place. "Too impatient," he said.

"Damn it!"

"Shhh." Kougaiji kept his strokes steady and deep. "I want to torment you as long as possible."

"You sadistic prick," Jien said through clenched teeth, but Kougaiji just laughed again. And Jien had to admit, it felt good, Kou pressed against the length of his body, one strong leg slung over his and holding him immobile. "I want to see you."

"Not this time," Kougaiji said. "But you have the most magnificent back and ass."

Jien groaned as Kou's cock hit something inside him. "Do that again."

"This?" Kougaiji thrust in and Jien gasped.

"Yeah. Fuck." He began to pant, his ass and balls thrumming with the sparks set off by Kou's cock. "Kou." He took his cock in hand and began to stroke, but Kougaiji firmly pushed his hand away.

"I want you to come without touching yourself," he said. "I want you to respond to me, not to your hand. Think only of me."

"Damn." Jien focused on the warm body behind him, the hot, hard cock inside him, Kou's slow, strong rhythm, and lost himself in the ache of Kougaiji's movements and his own arousal. He felt every stroke, every puff of breath against his neck, every slick movement of sweaty skin against his. His arousal grew. "Kou—"

Kougaiji licked his ear. "Think of my mouth on you," he whispered. "I want to taste you."

"Ungh. Kou, please--"

"Please what?"

"Please—"

Kougaiji kissed the back of his neck and whispered, "Come for me now."

As easily as that, Jien started to come, each pulse fed by the sound of Kougaiji's voice murmuring encouragement and the heat and press of his cock. He felt Kougaiji stiffen behind him and the spread of warmth inside his body, so he reached back to stroke Kou's flank as he came, loving the feel of the hard muscles of his ass under his sweaty, velvet skin.

Kougaiji pulled him close and spooned around him, and Jien drifted off to sleep.

Twice more that evening they had sex, and twice more Kougaiji made Jien come, once loudly, Kougaiji pounding into him mercilessly, and the last, heartbreakingly tender, as Kougaiji sucked him to completion. Kougaiji fell asleep nestled against him.

Jien waited until nearly three before he reluctantly slipped out of bed, unable to leave Kougaiji any sooner than he had to. He hesitated, looking down at Kou's face.

Asleep, Kougaiji looked much younger, barely more than a boy. He lay on his side, facing Jien's pillow, and the trust inherent in the pose made Jien's throat close with grief.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. He left the sleeping draught on the table for Kou to find.

Then, swallowing hard, he turned his back on Kougaiji and silently dressed before slipping through the curtain to rendezvous with Akio and Jiro.

The curtain fluttered in the draft of the closing doors.

~~~***~~~

The dragon's hide was warm and smelled a bit sweet, like clover; the muscles that worked its great wings rippled smoothly under Jien's gripping knees. He shivered in the cold wind of its flight.

Jiro whooped. "We fucking did it!" he crowed. "Look at the haul!"

Jien was reluctantly impressed. The dragon was fully laden with the three of them and several huge sacks, bulging with stolen goods.

"Shoichi's plans are the best," Akio said. "And damn, am I glad to be rid of my fuckwad of a patrol partner. The idiot was a total asshole."

"Ha ha! Ichiro will be waiting for you with his drawers down and his ass pointed up," Jiro said.

Akio grimaced. "That's just sick, Jiro. If I ever hear you say something like that again, I'll fucking kill you."

He and Jiro traded lazy insults while Jien watched the stars move beyond the dragon's wings and tried not to think.

It wasn't long before Jiro pointed down. "We're here. We'll land in the street, then take this fucker into the alley before we unload him."

Within moments they were on the ground and shrouded in the shadows of the alley. Shoichi's hair glinted in the dim light from a window.

"Unload the dragon, then get it out of here. I don't know what security measures Houtou has, but it wouldn't surprise me if they have ways to track down escaped dragons," he said. Eager hands reached for heavy bags, which Jien and Akio carefully lowered. When the last bag was taken from them, they slid off the dragon's back and followed the others upstairs. Jien heard a slap of skin on hide and Jiro's cheerful, "You did good, you flying fucker! Now get the hell out of here!", followed by the rasp of claws against concrete and a moment later, the heavy _thwap_ of the dragon's wings.

"Oh, man, you're a sight for sore eyes," Ichiro said, grinning at Akio as he lugged a huge bag up the steps. "Toki's boring as hell to hang with."

"You're no joy, either, dickwad!" Toki yelled down from the apartment.

"Your security overrides were brilliant," Akio responded, shoving Ichiro lightly. "Don't know how the hell you do it, you moron."

"You've never appreciated my genius," Ichiro said woefully.

"Shut it, both of you," Hajime said. "There's plenty of time for tearful reunions once we're on the boat."

Jien helped him with the bag he was carrying, while Jiro brought the last one up behind them. When they got to the apartment, Jien was surprised to see that the bags were being dumped on the kitchen table.

"That one, too," Shoichi said, grabbing the bag that Hajime and Jien were carrying. "Too much here for us to transport by foot. We only want the best of this lot. I want this loot sorted and re-bagged into smaller sacks in thirty minutes, people. Masaaki and Toki, keep a lookout downstairs. I don't expect any trouble, but it's better to be safe."

"As long as you save some of the loot for me," Toki said cheerfully. "Come on, big guy. I want to hear all about that tart I saw you with the other night."

Masaaki snorted and followed Toki out of the room.

Jien found himself standing by Hajime, momentarily disregarded while the others scooped items into smaller bags and argued about how they'd spend the money. He hesitated, but it was important to him to ask while they were still on the mainland, even if he couldn't do anything about it. He lowered his voice. "Hajime?"

"Yes?"

"If you knew where Gojyo was, you wouldn't tell me, would you?"

Hajime sighed, then shook his head. "No."

"Fuck." He'd known it. He was a tool, just like everyone else in the group, and Shoichi and Hajime were master criminals who knew the value of keeping their tools to hand.

"It's not personal," Hajime said quietly.

"I know." Fuck. Gojyo. "He never had a chance, that's all. I wanted to give him that."

"Your brother was taboo. His fate was determined from the moment of his conception. In a way," Hajime said, his voice thoughtful, "he had it better than any of us. Since he wasn't human or demon, he had an opportunity to make his own fate, if he was strong enough."

"You talk about him in the past tense," Jien said dully.

"It's no indication of his fate. Simply a closed chapter of your life."

"A closed chapter," Jien echoed. And Kougaiji's chapter was closed now, too.

Fuck. His guts twisted and he felt sick. Though he felt guilty comparing the two, leaving Kougaiji felt as wrenching as leaving Gojyo had. Both people who trusted him, and both let down by him in the worst possible way.

He was one sorry fucker.

"Grab some bags and let's help," Hajime said, giving his shoulder a rough squeeze. "It won't be a bad life, you know."

Heartsick, Jien followed him. No, not a bad life at all. Just a life without the only two people in the world that he wanted to help, to care for. He'd lost them both.

No. Not lost. Betrayed. He didn't deserve a good life, not after all he'd done.

"Make sure they're tied tightly," Shoichi said. "I'm damned if we're leaving a trail of loot behind us because someone wasn't careful."

Jien automatically picked up a bag and some cord. Some of the jewelery fell out; Shoichi obviously was right about the bindings— Jien's heart stopped, and he picked up an earring.

It matched the ones that Kougaiji wore. "Where did you get this?" he asked, dread growing in his heart.

Jiro started laughing. "When you're being fucked, you make a lot of noise, don't you, Sha?"

Jien turned to him. "You took these from his rooms while we were having sex?"

Akio moved forward, frowning. "Of course. That was the plan, after all."

"You idiots," he whispered. "I told you. Stay away from his rooms." Jien looked at Shoichi. "He won't stop until he has these back."

"We've known he'd be dangerous right from the beginning," Shoichi said. "In a half hour, we'll be on the boat. In a day's time, we'll be more than a dragon's flight away. We planned for this. Akio and Jiro had their orders." He frowned. "I knew you were getting too involved with him, Sha, but I didn't think you'd balk at the last minute."

"You don't understand—" Jien said.

There was a crash downstairs. Jien heard Toki yell; the shout was cut short and the sounds of sword-fighting rang out. Masaaki was cursing steadily, his muffled voice a grim underscore to the clash of metal on metal.

"Out! Now!" Shoichi grabbed the sack with the jewelry. "Fuck the schedule! Scatter and meet at the boat. We sail in fifteen minutes."

Through the door Jien heard a familiar _chunk_ and a thud as a body crashed to the ground, sounds that haunted his worst nightmares. "Fuck," he said. He put his hand out and drew his sword even as Kougaiji burst through the door.

"Stop!" Kougaiji commanded. His chest and clothing were splattered with fresh blood. Jien watched in amazement as his hand suddenly blazed with fire.

Ichiro dove for the window; an instant later, he was encased in a fireball that disappeared as quickly as it had flared.

There was no trace of Ichiro left.

"You bastard!" Akio screamed as Hajime strained to hold him back. "I'll fucking kill you!".

"Akio, shut up," Shoichi said. "He knew what he was getting into." He turned back to Kougaiji. "Impressive." His voice was brittle as ice. "How did you find us?"

"A dragon always remembers where it's been flown," Kougaiji said. "Three of your men are dead. Return what you've stolen, and I may be merciful with the rest of you."

"Kou," Jien choked, stepping forward. "I can't let you stop us."

Kougaiji's face paled and he looked grim. "I was afraid that I'd find you here." He glanced around the room; Jien saw the other gang members drawing their weapons out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn't stop watching the emotions that played across Kougaiji's face. When Kougaiji finally turned back to face him, Jien felt sick at the anger and disgust that he saw.

"I'm sorry," Jien said, his grief choking him. "Look, take your mother's things. They're in this bag." Jien grabbed the bag away from Shoichi and threw it at Kougaiji's feet. "Forget about the rest of it. Just let these guys take it and leave, and you won't ever have to deal with them again, I promise."

"I can't do that." Kougaiji's voice was cold.

"And I can't let you hurt anyone else." Jien moved in front of Shoichi. "I made a promise to them."

"I doubt that they have a similar loyalty to you."

"Doesn't matter." Jien raised his sword; it pulsed eagerly, but he held it in a death-grip. "You've got your mother's things. Just take them and leave."

Kougaiji seemed to hesitate for a moment and Jien instinctively relaxed. Then he heard movement behind him and Akio erupted.

Before Jien even knew what he was doing, he leapt to intercept him. The sword surged forward, defying Jien's control.

"No!" he screamed.

Akio's extraordinary speed and agility nearly saved him; for a moment, Jien thought he'd escaped the sword's attack, then he felt the sword's triumph and the taste of fresh blood in his mouth and the deep, deep hunger for more, and blood spattered from Akio's chest like crimson rain as he fell to the floor.

For an endless instant, Jien saw them all, as if he were outside of his body, looking through the sword's eye. Shoichi was pushing Hajime towards the window, his sword drawn; Hajime was shouting, telling everyone to get out – NOW! Jiro started screaming in a high, shrill voice; while Kougaiji stood poised to fight, face grim and hand blazing.

The sword's hunger filled him, and Jien saw the realization of death written on every man's face. Then the red curtain descended across his sight.

The screaming skull disintegrated into two pleasing halves, the blood fresh and thick and rich with fear. Jien watched as the pieces fell to the floor and smiled at the sword's eagerness and joy as he turned to face the three remaining men. A shining blade met his and shattered under his power, the sword biting deep, long, fine hair swirling around its blade like a lover as it neatly dissected the corpse's blade-arm and shoulder from the rest of its body. A hairless one rushed forward; too weak for the sword, Jien merely allowed his backswing to sever the skull from its body as he whirled to face his real opponent, a demon with blazing eyes and hair and hands.

The demon's sword flashed, but it was just a feint, so Jien merely countered it and whirled, just dodging a fireball. Behind him the wall glowed red and burst into flame before disintegrating.

The sword's hunger roared through Jien. _This one is mine._

Jien smiled. "The sword claims you, demon."

"It won't win," the demon said, cool and balanced. He was truly an opponent; the first real one Jien felt he'd ever had. His blood would be sweet.

The sword quivered eagerly in his grip as he and the demon slowly circled each other, each looking for a weakness in the other. Jien easily dodged another fireball that sent masonry flying, and a third. Then the demon was backed into a corner, and Jien had him.

"You're mine." He raised the sword, deflecting yet another fireball, ignoring the blast and the falling debris….

… And then suddenly, the ceiling collapsed on top of him, bearing him to the floor and knocking the sword from his hand. In a heartbeat, the demon was on him. It struck him in the jaw with the _tzuka_ of its sword and Jien fell back, stunned and helpless.

"Damn it! Wake up!"

The demon slapped Jien across the face. Jien instinctively raised his free arm to protect his face, strangely reluctant to pick up the sword and slash the demon in two, even though the sword was at his fingertips, ready to battle as soon as he clutched it. But it felt wrong, somehow.

"Wake up!" The demon slapped him again, and again, and again—

A curtain. In his head, he saw a curtain, and a hand drawing it back. The red haze faded a bit. "Kou?"

"Yes! Damn it, wake up! Come back!"

Jien's eyes cleared, the red haze slowly disappearing. "Oh, God. Kou?"

Kougaiji closed his eyes and dropped his head to Jien's chest. "Thank the gods." He roughly pulled Jien into a rib-cracking hug. "I thought I'd have to kill you."

"Oh, fuck." Jien looked around the room, his eyes lighting on silver hair coiled gracefully in a pool of blood. "Oh, Christ. Shoichi?" He started to shake.

"I need to get you out of here," Kougaiji said, releasing him. "Do you think you can walk?"

"The sword. I've got to put it away, before— Oh, damn it." Tears welled in his eyes. "It's too late, isn't it?"

"No. Let me take you back to Houtou. We can figure out what to do once we're back there."

"I've got to put the sword away—" Jien reached for it.

"No!"

But Jien's hand had already closed around the grip. The sword molded itself to his hand and leapt forward, Kougaiji just managing to dodge its thrust. A lock of red hair floated to the floor.

Jien tried to scramble away, but the sword strove after Kougaiji. "Fuck!" He grabbed it with both hands. "Get away! It wants to kill you!"

Kougaiji retreated a few paces. "Let go of it!"

"I can't! And it won't let me sheath it, either." Shit. Shit. "Get out, now!"

"I'm not leaving without you."

"Kou—" But Kougaiji's face was set and calm, and Jien knew he wasn't about to change his mind. The sword surged again, nearly yanking his arms from their sockets. Jien looked around wildly, trying to find a way to keep Kougaiji safe.

The wall. Kou's fireball had wiped a part of it out, and the building gaped open to the night, already lightening towards the dawn. Six floors. It should be enough.

He threw himself at the opening, but Kougaiji leapt forward to intercept him.

"No! Out of the way!" Jien staggered back and almost fell.

And then Kou was in front of him, and the sword surged forward to claim him. Jien managed to pull it back, but his muscles shook with the effort of holding it as it tried to bury itself in Kougaiji's throat.

"Please," he begged. "Please, Kou. You've got to kill me. It's the only way to stop it."

"I know that sword," Prince Kougaiji said. "I've seen it in battle before. Are you a Sha?"

The sword surged; Jien's feet left two perfectly parallel drag patterns in the debris on the floor before he could brace himself against a huge chunk of fallen wall and stop it, just in time. Kougaiji stood in the middle of the room, the sword inches from his throat. "Damn it! I don't want to kill you," Jien begged. "Just kill me and escape!"

"Your ancestor controlled the sword."

"If I'm dead, it will go to sleep again."

"It's your responsibility to do the same."

"My responsibility!" Jien cried. "You don't have any fucking idea what I've done in the name of responsibility! Please. The sword won't let me kill myself. I've tried. _Please_. I'm begging you!"

"I refuse." Prince Kougaiji's eyes suddenly burned with anger. "Killing you won't wipe out your sins, or those of the sword."

"Fuck!" The sword quivered and leapt in Jien's hands. A drop of blood appeared on Kougaiji's throat and was eagerly sucked in by the blade. Jien closed his eyes and felt a moan of ecstasy escape his lips.

"Look at me."

Jien slowly opened his eyes. Kougaiji looked nothing like the tender lover he'd known, nor even like Gojyo; now he was remote and cold and beautiful like no one Jien had ever seen or dreamed of. "My lord," he whispered.

"Are you the master of this sword? Or does the sword master you?"

"I've never mastered it," Jien choked. "I can't master it. The only way to stop it is if I'm dead. I'm the last full-blooded Sha. It will stay sealed forever if I die."

"Of course you'll fail if you believe you will."

"Stop being so stubborn, damn it!" An image of Gojyo and a riverbank floated into Jien's mind, and he suddenly remembered another red-haired, red-eyed boy's refusal to do what was needed in favor of what he thought was right. The consequences of Gojyo's refusal had been devastating. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

He didn't stop to think.

Throwing himself violently to the left, he allowed the sword to carry him forward, watching as if in slow motion when his sideways momentum turned the sword's angle as it slid across Kougaiji's throat. He saw blood begin to flow as Kougaiji tried to pivot away, saw Kougaiji's hands seem to burst into flames, felt their heat as the sword's momentum pulled him past Kougaiji's stunned face. He used the momentum to launch himself upward, releasing the sword as he flipped over it, desperately trying to outrace its speed.

He landed perfectly, maybe the most perfect thing he'd ever done in a lifetime of not being quite good enough.

The sword's impact threw him against the wall. For a split-second he stared at the sword quivering in his chest, shocked that he'd succeeded, then red-hot pain swept through his body and his knees crumpled as he slid to the floor. With shaking hands, he yanked the sword out of his chest and sheathed it so that no one would ever be able to lay hands on it again.

"Sha? Sha!"

Hands were at his shoulders; through a spreading blackness he saw Kougaiji's face. Relief swept through him and he smiled.

"My name's Ji--" he whispered as the world went dark.

~~~***~~~

Jien awoke to the murmur of soft voices and the feel of silken sheets. He stared at the ceiling, too wracked with pain to move. There was a rustle beside him, and the bed dipped as Kougaiji sat.

"You should be asleep," he said quietly.

"They're all dead, aren't they?" Jien asked, his voice heavy and dull in his ears.

"Yes."

"Fuck." Jien closed his eyes. "They weren't completely bad, you know."

"Very few men are." Jien felt a cool hand on his brow. "You need to rest."

"What happens now?"

"Don't worry," Kougaiji said. "We've got time. Right now, you need time to heal."

"I should be under arrest."

"Would you be more comfortable if I told you that I'm holding you under house arrest?"

Relief swept through Jien. He'd wondered if Kougaiji would be stupid enough to keep trusting him, but it sounded like he'd learned his lesson. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Go to sleep."

Jien closed his eyes and the world faded, the cool touch on his brow the last thing he remembered.

~~~***~~~

Kou wasn't there when he awoke, nor did he show up again during the long, slow process of Jien's recovery. Jien could feel the sword nearby, though. It was silent, so he ignored it, hating it even more deeply than he hated himself.

The room that he was in was small but bright, on one of the upper floors of the castle, with tall, barred windows that looked out over the vast desert landscape. His bed was angled to give him a good view outside as well as allowing him to see who entered the room; he was grateful for the thoughtful arrangement, which he suspected was Kou's.

Yaone visited every day, sweet and cheerful. Jien tried to make an effort to be cheerful in return, but as soon as she left, he fell back into the dark abyss of his thoughts.

He wondered if Kou was allowing him to heal well enough for a trial. If so, Jien figured he could spare him the expense. He was guilty, after all, and had no intention of defending himself. It was the only explanation that made any sense, unless Kougaiji had decided to make him an example by executing him publicly.

Mostly, he drifted in and out of sleep, his wound taking its toll on his reserves. He often woke from dreams of wrestling with Gojyo or of his little brother's chatter. Sometimes he dreamt of his mother, but always as she had been before the madness had taken her, beautiful, vivacious, with a trilling laugh and dancing eyes; once, his father had been in the dream as well, spinning her wildly around the dining room and then pulling Jien into a mad dance that ended with the three of rolling on the floor, laughing until they cried.

He had nightmares, too, nightmares from which he awoke gasping and tearing at his throat, the feeling of the tight, choking tendrils of Shoichi's silver hair vivid and slow to fade, even after he was fully awake. Hajime's severed head featured in several of them, telling him quite calmly that Gojyo had died, gutted in an alley somewhere, raped and mutilated and helpless and broken, because Jien wasn't there to save him.

But the worst were the dreams he had of Kougaiji. Most of them were erotic, filled with tender touches and passionate sex, perfect, until the moment when Jien noticed that Kou was tied down, gagged, struggling to break free as Jien raped him repeatedly, over and over and over, and torn and bloodied by Jien's betrayal. He woke from those shouting, and Yaone had to give him sleeping draughts to calm him down.

After the first week, though, the dreams faded and he spent more time awake, bored and restless. He was actually relieved when Yaone came to him on the tenth day and told him that she was to escort him to Lord Kougaiji.

He washed up as well as he could, waving off Yaone's help. Someone had patched his clothing and cleaned it, so he put it on, wincing as it caught on the edge of his bandages and pulled at the healing skin.

Yaone waited, her eyes grave but supportive. _Another kind-hearted fool,_ Jien thought to himself as he followed her from the plain chamber in which he'd been held, through a maze of corridors to the familiar set of double doors. The soldiers steadfastly ignored him as Yaone led him inside.

Kougaiji was sitting at his desk, writing. Jien flushed, and when Yaone stopped, he fell to one knee and bowed his head. "My lord."

Kougaiji laid his pen down. "I want you standing," he said.

Jien stood, stifling a gasp as pain flashed through him. He could feel beads of sweat forming on his face and kept his eyes on the floor.

"Draw your sword."

Startled, Jien glanced up. Kougaiji's expression was unreadable. "My lord," he said hesitantly. "I won't fight you, or try to escape. I'm ready to accept whatever punishment you think is necessary."

"Even if I were to call a fiend to devour you?"

"If that's what you think is justified, then yes."

"Draw your sword."

So. Kougaiji wanted him to die with his sword in hand. Jien supposed the idiot thought that it would allow Jien to die with dignity, when in reality, all it would do was to expose Kougaiji to the sword's hunger again. He shook his head, not taking his eyes from Kougaiji's face. "I won't do that, my lord."

Kougaiji examined him; Jien shivered, and felt horribly exposed. "I command you to draw your sword," Kougaiji said. "If you refuse," he glanced at Yaone, "I shall incinerate her."

Yaone made a small sound and her face grew pale, but she stood resolutely.

"No!" Jien wasn't about to let that happen to either of them; Yaone would be dead, and Kougaiji would be destroyed. "Fine!" he said, furious at Kougaiji's blatant manipulation. "Just have that fiend of yours ready, okay?"

He reached into Hell, but before he touched the blade, he snatched his hand back and stared at the empty space. "What the fuck?"

Kougaiji's eyes flashed. "What?"

"The sword," Jien said. "It doesn't feel the same."

"Demon swords are bound to their masters," Kougaiji said. "The blood ritual subjugates them."

"Wait. Blood ritual? Ours isn't like that. It's just – bound. To my family. It says it owns me."

Kougaiji shook his head. "It must answer to you, not the other way around. When you woke the sword, didn't you feed it your blood?"

"No. It was my—" Jien abruptly stopped. He felt a strange reluctance to speak of his past in these last moments. Better to leave Kougaiji with only first-hand knowledge of Jien's failures than to invoke pity for the past as well.

"You've never fed it your blood?"

Jien shook his head.

"That explains the lack of control." Kougaiji frowned. "Draw it."

"I don't want to endanger you—"

"Draw it now."

Jien hesitated, but Kougaiji's eyes were stern. Reluctantly, he reached again for the sword. As his hand closed around the grip, he felt the sword's power flow through his arm and into his chest, nestling there, waiting. He slowly unsheathed it.

The hunger didn't blossom inside him. Jien blinked and stared at the sword. It was always hungry.

"It tricked you," Kougaiji said quietly. "The secret must have been lost over time, while the sword waited. Only a great sin could awaken it."

"I—yeah," Jien said, dazed.

"The sin was traditionally a betrayal," Kougaiji continued, "after which the sword's master would stab himself with the sword. The blood bound their fates together, giving the sword's master a new life and allowing the demon inside the sword a taste of freedom. When the ritual was done correctly, the healing would be instantaneous as the magic bound them. The master's next death sealed the sword, until another act of betrayal released it once again."

"You've known—"

"Only since I came upon you and the others." Kougaiji regarded him steadily. "I have no interest in hearing what act awoke the sword. I only know that the fates have ordained that it's once again at Houtou Castle."

"You knew I was a Sha," Jien said, his heart racing. "How?"

"Because," Kougaiji said softly, "the last betrayal that woke the sword was when Sha Jostra murdered his commander, General Han, and became a spy for the Heavens in order to destroy my father."

Jien's skin was clammy with shock. Oh, fucking hell. The legacy of the Shas, all right. Destroying whatever they touched. "How did you—?"

"I had my suspicions at the time, and I conducted an investigation, privately."

"He betrayed you, too, then."

Kougaiji shook his head. "I knew my father had to be stopped. His excesses endangered both humans and youkai, yet I wasn't strong enough to stop him myself. Once I knew what had happened, I confronted Sha Jostra. It was already too late, though. Nataku Toushin Taishi descended from the heavens and sealed my father and all of Houtou Castle."

"You knew it was going to happen," Jien said. Horror choked him. Of all of the desperate, idiotic plans! "Why didn't you escape?"

"I needed to be present if my father's seal were ever broken, and there was no guarantee that I would survive long enough living in the world until that time came." Kougaiji walked over to Jien and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Father's seal will be broken, sooner or later. Ni Jianyi and Gyokumen Koushu will see to that. If my father's madness wakes with him, I'll need you beside me, as your ancestor stood beside me during the battle with the War Prince."

"Kou," Jien said, but his protest was weak.

"You'll need a new name," Kougaiji said. "One that will bind the sword to your new life."

Jien stared at him, his heart sinking. A new name. His last tie to Gojyo, gone.

But who was he kidding? Hajime had been right: he'd severed all ties to Gojyo the moment he'd killed their mother. From that moment forward, Gojyo's fate wasn't something he could control, or defend Gojyo from, not if he tried for the rest of his life. But somehow, the gods had deemed him worthy of another chance to care for someone, perhaps even to protect that person.

Maybe this time he could get it right.

With a new name and a new life, he might be able to keep this man, who reminded him so strongly of his younger brother, alive. Maybe by tying himself to Kougaiji, it would leave Gojyo free to face his future without following in Jien's footsteps. If there were such things as gods and mercy, anyway.

"A new name, huh?" Jien grinned crookedly. "Okay, then. But make it a good one."

He knelt at Kougaiji's feet.

 

~*~_fin_~*~


End file.
